Recently a new water container has arrived on the market, called Boxed Water Is Better. I feel skeptical about its use of “renewable trees” in the packaging and the eco-friendly mantra the company is parading. Is boxed water just another greenwashing campaign, or will this product actually make a long-term difference?

Samantha
New York, New York

A. Dearest Samantha,

Welcome to my Team of Skeptics! Together we roam the globe, looking for dubious eco-claims, suspicious green bona fides, and fishy “facts” of all kinds. We well know that just because a company markets its products as environmentally friendly doesn’t mean they truly are. Some brands pass muster, and three cheers for them. Some don’t, and that’s where the Team of Skeptics comes in. We’re glad you’ve joined us.

Your instincts are spot-on in flagging boxed water for a closer review. The company’s very name demands a raised eyebrow and an “Oh, really?” (I don’t mean to jump all over Boxed Water; competitor Just Water raises the same questions.) So, is it actually better? To paraphrase Rev. Lovejoy: “Long answer, ‘yes’ with an ‘if’; short answer ‘no’ with a ‘but.’”

Let’s look at the long answer first. Packaging water in a carton is better if your alternative is plastic or glass bottles — probably. Boxed Water Is Better (which isn’t exactly new, by the way — the company debuted in 2009) comes encased in what’s called an aseptic carton, the same type you see holding coconut water, soymilk, and soups. The brand promotes the fact that 76 percent of its carton is paper, but the rest of it is a complicated layer cake of polyethylene plastic and aluminum.

Now, the high paper content is a good thing: Trees are indeed renewable, while petro-plastic is not. And Boxed Water’s packaging supplier, Elopak, gets its paperboard from sources certified by the Forest Stewardship Council, a trustworthy group. But the carton’s mishmash of materials poses recycling challenges: Some communities have the technology to separate it all out for recycling, and some don’t. The Carton Council runs a mail-in recycling program that you could use if your local recycler can’t handle this type of container, but most carton-buyers are dropping their empties in the trash, not the mailbox. On the other hand, glass and bottles made of No. 1 and No. 2 plastic are at least widely recyclable.

More importantly, though, water-in-a-box does score a clear win on climate impacts because of its lower transportation-related CO2 emissions. Boxed Water trucks empty cartons to its filling stations packed flat, fitting 26 trucks’ worth of containers into a single truck — better than plastics can do. And after the aseptic cartons are filled, they beat out glass bottles in terms of shipping impact because they weigh less.

But let’s move on to the short answer now, Samantha. Is boxed water actually better? No, but … actually, scratch that “but” and just go with “no.” Positioning cartons as a great alternative to bottles is a false choice. Single-use water containers are hugely wasteful of raw materials and energy, no matter what they’re made of. And what’s worse, they’re completely unnecessary (except in emergency situations and Flint-style mass contaminations), as we Americans have a free, clean water source standing by in our faucets. Some boxed water brands freely admit this. Your real alternative to packaged water is a refillable bottle and good old tap water, which single-serving containers will never beat.

But what about those times you just need to grab a quick quaff? You don’t. I’m sorry to be so blunt, but there has been enough waffling over which disposable container is least bad. Bottled water has rightly been called “the most wasteful indulgence in the first world,” and cartoned water is no better. You know what would be truly green? All of us planning ahead and carrying around a reusable water bottle, so we never have to worry about the impact of our hydration habits again. That’s the kind of no-nonsense approach I know my Team of Skeptics can get behind.

I’m visiting my sister out West soon, and she suggested we go cut down a Christmas tree in the woods. This sounds like a terrible idea to me. Isn’t cutting down a perfectly good wild tree bad for the health of the forest? I thought we were trying to save the trees.

John K.Decatur, Illinois

A. Dearest John,

It’s lovely to see you getting into the spirit of the season. Oh, I don’t mean by selecting this year’s Christmas tree — I mean by gearing up to argue with your loved ones. Family bickering is a time-honored holiday tradition, of course.

Allow me to hop in the sleigh and head this particular argument off at the pass. You haven’t gone mad: We’re still trying to save the trees. But get this: Cutting down a wild pine (or spruce, or fir — whatever you like to put under your LED star topper) can actually be beneficial to the ecosystem if you do it the proper way. The best places for DIY Christmas-tree chopping are public lands managed by the U.S. Forest Service and the Bureau of Land Management, most of them in the West or South, as well as state forests in the Midwest. Many of these areas are open for tree cutting if you get a $5 or $10 permit.

How is this good for the ecosystem? For one, selective thinning of the forest reduces competition among young trees, which will otherwise duke it out for sunlight and nutrients until some out-compete and kill off the others. For two, strategic sawing cuts back on fuel sources for future fires, helping prevent them from blooming into destructive mega-blazes. Then there’s the fact that a wild-cut tree is always organic, unlike most of the farmed trees out there, which get regular pesticide treatments.

To do this right, John, follow a few simple rules: Only cut a tree that’s growing within 10 feet of another tree (and pick the sicklier-looking of the two — the more Charlie Brown would like it, the better). Go for one with a trunk that’s six inches or less in diameter. Don’t cut a tree with a nest in it or other visible signs of wildlife. And never just chop off the top of a larger tree thinking the tree will go on growing normally (it won’t).

There is one major drawback to decorating this way: You’ll almost certainly have to drive out into the woods some distance. So if you go this route, do all you can to reduce your carbon footprint: Choose the closest location possible, carpool with other merry tree-seekers, and if you have access to an electric or hybrid vehicle, use it. If your nearest public lands are hours away, a wild tree probably isn’t the best idea for you.

Which isn’t an environmental tragedy by any means, as farmed trees can be an (ever)green move too, whether you chop them yourself at the farm or buy them from a local lot. Tree plantations preserve open space and provide habitat for birds and other critters. Plus live trees can be composted when the new year rolls around. And some Tannenbaums are even raised organically. Grab one of these if you’re lucky enough to have a local source, but otherwise, I’d pick a locally grown conventional tree over an organic one that had to be shipped thousands of miles.

Whatever you do, don’t buy a fake tree. This time of year, I often get on my soapbox about how live trees are much better than PVC-laden, never-decomposing faux ones.

Finally John, your question reminds me of a joke my dad used to tell: “If trees could scream, would we still cut them down? We might — if they did it all the time.” Similarly: If we all decided to harvest our own Christmas trees from the wild, would it still be an eco-friendly move? Well, probably not. But only a fraction of holiday revelers do, either because most of us don’t have easy access to national forests or because it’s just easier to buy one: Of the 33 million live trees sold on this continent every year, a mere 2 percent are wild cut. So joining this rarefied group for Christmas 2016, in all likelihood, will have minimal impact.

Besides, wouldn’t you rather tromp around in a silent, snowy forest than wrestle with a troop of Cub Scouts at the local Christmas tree lot? So bundle up, find that tree, and celebrate with a cup of your favorite ‘nog. It’ll be positively Rockwellian. Happy holidays!

I want to replace my aging gas furnace with a heat pump. But the heat pump is much more expensive than a high-efficiency gas furnace, and I’m only gonna spend the money if it cuts down on greenhouse gas emissions. And heat pumps use HFCs, which are potent greenhouse gases themselves, and some of them probably leak during manufacturing and installation. Should I spend the money on improving my insulation instead?

KenCorvallis, Oregon

A. Dearest Ken,

Somewhere in the world, there must be a place where it’s a steady 68 degrees at all times. The locals must feel completely comfortable in every season, never stress over all the oft-confusing options for home heating, and probably get free ice cream every week too. What a charmed life that must be. For the other 99.99 percent of us, there’s at least some wrangling to be done over the heating and cooling of our homes (not to mention all the ice cream budgeting we must do). Now that the cold season is upon us, let’s untangle your options and get you toasty — without doing the same for the planet.

I’ll address your last question first: Should you upgrade your insulation instead of your furnace? Ideal answer: Do both! It’s a very smart move to button up your house as tightly as you can before making any major heating system changes. The less warm air that can escape from your home, the less energy any system will use. Investing in a spendy new system without sealing doors and windows or beefing up insulation is kind of like having a car that runs on clean biodiesel but has a gas tank riddled with tiny holes. Not exactly what you’re going for, is it? So first things first: Head over here and here for some tips on upping your home’s efficiency.

That said, Ken, an aging furnace can certainly be beat with today’s ever-improving heating technologies, so I’m glad you’re thinking about making an upgrade. If you have the scratch to spend up front, you’ll ultimately save both money and carbon emissions by breaking up with your less-than-efficient old furnace.

I’ll tell you from the get-go that there’s no definitive winner in the greenhouse-gas faceoff between high-efficiency gas furnaces and heat pumps. Far too much depends on the efficiency of the particular model you buy, the local climate, your area’s power grid, and how well you maintain the system. So before you sink any money into this shake-up, consult a qualified heating/cooling pro for a better idea about how either option would work for you.

With that in mind, though, it’s a good idea to consider that heat pump. Not that switching to a high-efficiency gas furnace is a bad move — it isn’t. Today’s furnaces can be up to 98.5 percent efficient, a huge improvement over yesteryear’s numbers of 56 to 70 percent. In fact, upgrading to a better furnace can slash your fuel costs and your carbon emissions in half, perhaps giving you such a warm, fuzzy feeling that you can even dial your thermostat down a little.

Heat pumps, on the other hand, tap naturally existing heat in the air or ground — not fossil fuels such as natural gas or oil — to cozy up your castle. Basically, they use a little electricity to move warmth from the outdoors (yep, even in the winter) inside; in summer, they work in reverse to cool the place. We like ‘em because they’re much more efficient than any furnace: An air-source heat pump uses 50 percent less energy than an electric furnace or baseboard heat, and a ground-source model is up to 45 percent more efficient than its air-source cousins. In fact, for every unit of energy they use, heat pumps produce three to five units of “free” heat. You can even link your system to the hot water heater and use that excess warmth to power your shower. In theory, heat pumps can be your ticket to 100-percent renewable heat — provided your electricity comes from totally green sources.

Alas, the pump isn’t perfect. As you well know, Ken, they’re more expensive than a new furnace. (Though government tax credits can help offset the cost; you can still get this 30 percent federal credit through the end of 2016, and the state of Oregon has one too.) Lower energy bills will eventually put you ahead, but it can take five to 15 years for the system to pay for itself (less if you’re replacing your air conditioner at the same time).

Another issue is that heat pumps still use electricity, which, depending on where you live, might be provided by dirty coal-fired plants or other nonrenewable fuels. This, plus your local climate (pumps work best in milder areas), matters a lot in terms of which heating system will be best for lowering your overall carbon emissions. One analysis found that high-efficiency gas furnaces had lower carbon footprints than the best ground-source heat pumps in very cold regions and places with carbon-heavy electric grids. But in green-power zones and more moderate climates — like yours in Oregon — heat pumps are better.

One more wrinkle: those hydrofluorcarbons (HFCs) you mention. These very potent greenhouse gases are used in heat pumps and refrigerators, and there’s some concern that HFCs are released during manufacturing, use, and disposal. One analysis calculated that these emissions add 20 percent to a heat pump’s carbon footprint; others argue that a properly installed system shouldn’t leak, and proper disposal helps prevent too many HFCs flying off into the atmosphere. Another study out of the U.K. crunched the numbers and found heat pumps still reduce carbon, even considering HFCs. The final answer remains murky. Meanwhile, new non-HFC pumps (some using ammonia) are beginning to gain steam.

I hope I’ve given you enough to start your own personalized analysis: I do think a heat pump could be a smart, green choice for you, but do look closely at the variables. Either way, upgrading from your dinosaur furnace will be a big step up — consider it an early holiday gift to yourself, and all the rest of us.

My question pertains to the pH of our Earth’s oceans: Is this pH decreasing, and, if so, what components of the marine environment act as buffering agents? I’m really concerned that the coral sold for aquariums and as a source of calcium for poultry may serve an important purpose in our oceans.

Lucy H.

A. Dearest Lucy,

Back in middle school, my science teacher had a beautiful saltwater aquarium in her classroom. We all loved gazing at the colorful fish darting among the coral — until we started our oceans unit, that is. As she lectured about the importance of coral reefs and the many threats to them, somebody suddenly shouted, “Hey! Then why did you buy coral for the aquarium? Shouldn’t you have left it in the ocean?” Class that day rapidly turned into a student walkout, picketing session, and chants of “Free the Aquarium Seven!” Since then, the health of our coral reefs has been near to my heart.

And it’s becoming an ever more urgent matter these days, thanks to the ocean acidification you reference, Lucy. To answer your question: Yes, the pH of the seas is decreasing (as that middle school science teacher also taught me, the lower the pH, the more acidic the substance). According to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, our oceans are 30 percent more acidic than they were at the dawn of the Industrial Revolution and, if current trends hold, could be nearly 150 percent more acidic by the end of the century.

Why? Because we’re burning so many fossil fuels. As we pump carbon dioxide into the world, the oceans absorb more and more of it. The seawater then chemically reacts with the carbon in a way that reduces the available carbonate ions in the water (in other words, acidifying it) — which is a big deal if you build your shell or skeleton out of calcium carbonate, as do many shellfish, plankton, algae, and yes, coral. So more dissolved carbon dioxide in the ocean means that some creatures will struggle to build strong enough shells (like poor Homeless Hermie the crab), and it means that corals’ growth will slow or stop. These are the kinds of changes that can have a giant impact on the ocean ecosystem as a whole.

So rather than acting as a buffer, as you suggest in your question, corals actually suffer as the ocean tips toward the vinegar end of the scale. (Sadly, there aren’t really any marine buffers that help soften the blow of acidification.) This is bad news because reef-building organisms serve a hugely important purpose. Coral reefs provide shelter and food for 4,000 fish species, 800 hard corals, and hundreds more marine animals — truly, they’re among the most biodiverse zones on the globe. Reefs also help protect shorelines from waves and erosion and support multimillion-dollar global tourism and fishing industries (more than a billion people depend on the ocean for their protein), plus serve as source material for lifesaving new medications.

Clearly, coral has much more important things to do than hang out in our aquariums or feed our chickens — or adorn our jewelry and souvenir picture frames, for that matter. So you’re right to be concerned, Lucy. Many of the coral and tropical fish species sold for aquariums are plucked from their native habitats using often-destructive methods; turns out, it’s quite difficult to raise these critters in captivity.

The Marine Aquarium Council provides some guidance on buying coral reef citizens that were sustainably captured or raised, but I’d advise any saltwater aquarium fans to think very carefully about buying anything that was harvested from our already-threatened reefs. On top of that, we can boycott any and all reef products: dried starfish, tropical shells, hard corals-turned-earrings, and certainly coral calcium supplements (which don’t actually cure cancer, as the FDA discovered back in the early aughts). Oh, and we can be smart about our sunblock, too.

But ultimately, ocean acidification and its attendant ills won’t get any better without us putting a plug in carbon emissions. So if you’re a lover of snorkeling over polychrome reefs — or just eating seafood — let the oceans be yet another reason to fight tooth and nail against fossil fuel combustion. That includes taking all the personal steps we discuss here at Grist, but also getting political about it — especially now, people. What would your inner 7th grader do? Mine would put on her Save the Whales T-shirt and get busy.

My wife and I have started using coconut oil a lot. I know demand for palm oil is proving horrible for the tropical forests of the world, and was wondering if the same is true for coconut oil.

Mark J.

Q.Dear Umbra,

Before I jump on the Most Wondrous and Magikal Coconut Oil Bandwagon, I’d like to know whether it’s going to end up being as horrible for the environment as palm oil? I don’t want to climb on board without knowing whether I’m indirectly causing harm to some endangered puffins or sea turtles somewhere.

Janice R.Winnipeg, Canada

Q.Dear Umbra,

I use almond flour for the majority of my cooking and baking now, but I worry about the water-intensive process of growing almonds. Coconut would be an alternative for most recipes, but I know nothing of the environmental impacts of its production cycle. Would using coconut flour be just as bad?

ValerieAlbany, Georgia

A. Dearest Mark, Janice, and Valerie,

Occasionally, readers from all across the land come together to speak with one voice. Today, that voice is unmistakable in its curiosity about the oh-so-delicious, oh-so-trendy coconut and its byproducts: oil, water, sugar, and flour among them. In recent years, the tropical fruit has become quite the darling of the green set: Environmentalists tout coconut oil, especially, as a natural alternative for everything from body lotion to lip balm to personal lube. But as always, it’s wise to take a closer look at the latest wonder food before stocking the pantry. Let’s crack this nut open, shall we?

You three are far from the only North Americans getting high on coco’, by the way: The use of coconut oil grew 780 percent between 2008 and 2012, and the demand for coconut water jumped 168 percent between 2010 and 2013. And if an informal survey of my local yoga-goers and farmers market-shoppers is any indication, the boom is still going strong. So what kind of impact are we having?

The first consideration: Everyone’s favorite hairy-on-the-outside, succulent-on-the-inside fruit (sorry, kiwi) comes to us from the tropics — Indonesia, most often, plus the Philippines and India, and to a lesser extent, Brazil, Sri Lanka, and Thailand. So unless you’re currently lounging on an idyllic beach — you lucky so-and-so — that coconut product was shipped a considerable distance to reach you, with all the transportation-related carbon emissions that entails. Locavore eating it’s not.

Then there’s the growing of the trees themselves. Fortunately, coconut farming isn’t linked to the kind of deforestation that makes palm oil so devastating to local ecosystems. But those lovely coconut trees can still be grown in a monoculture, which hurts tropical biodiversity and soil quality.

And finally, there’s the human rights side of things. As with other cultivators of the tropics (those who produce chocolate, cashews, and coffee, to look just at the Cs), coconut farmers very often toil in terrible poverty — as high as 60 percent of them in the Philippines. Coconut water alone sells for a couple of bucks or more per bottle, but the farmers behind it make as little as 12 cents per coconut. Kind of a bitter system, huh?

The good news, Mark, Janice, and Valerie, is that careful shopping can alleviate many of coconut’s downsides. Organic products reduce the use of pesticides and synthetic fertilizers, as per usual, and are worth seeking out. Even better, Fair Trade–certified items help ensure farmers aren’t getting ripped off. You can find oils and flours that tick both of these boxes. This brand of coconut water makes a point of investing in sustainable practices with its partner farmers, and this one slashes its shipping footprint by selling dried coconut powder instead of heavier, bulkier bottles.

That said, foods that come to us exclusively from faraway lands are never going to win any green awards. Sometimes, this is a tradeoff we must consider carefully. Take Valerie’s almond flour: It’s true that almond cultivation uses lots of water, but not so clear whether that makes it better or worse for the planet than exotic coconut flour. If it’s gluten-free flour you seek, you might want to check out some of the closer-to-home alternatives, such as brown rice flour, oat flour, or millet flour.

Coconut oil involves a similar tradeoff, considering that other oils have their own environmental impacts to consider: Olive oil can also have a significant shipping footprint, for example, and canola oil is often made from GMO crops. Some of the other slippery spreads that hail from our own continent (hazelnut, sunflower) might not be ideal for all the myriad uses coconut oil claims, either. So I’m not saying we must swear off coconut oil, but as always, shop wisely and use only what you really need.

As for the other coconut goodies, such as milk, water, and sugar, the best approach is to treat them as indulgences, and indulge only occasionally.

Now if only we could figure out how to make a magikal multipurpose oil out of locally grown turnips.

Does it matter if I fly a turboprop, jet, or Boeing 787 over the ocean?

WillSeattle, WA

A. Dearest Will,

Oh — it matters, very much. Tiny as they are, some turboprop planes are able to fly only about 1,000 nautical miles in one go, and a trip from, say, Seattle to Honolulu would cover more than 2,000. I’m afraid the mathematical difficulties would become frighteningly clear somewhere over the North Pacific.

But I kid, Will. I believe what you’re really asking is whether the type of aircraft you ride makes a difference, carbon emissions-wise. And the answer is the same: Yes, it does matter.

I must first point out that flying in general takes a heavy toll on the climate. Aircraft can answer for 9 percent of the United States’ transportation emissions and about 3 percent of our total emissions. Globally, flying let loose 781 million metric tons of carbon dioxide in 2015. Worse still, if things keep on this carboniferous path, airline emissions could triple by 2050. Travelers would do much better to hop on a train or bus, or perhaps take up long-distance bicycling (it’ll do wonders for your quads!). But you already knew this, right, Will? Enough idling on the runway. Sometimes, there’s a flight you’ve just gotta take.

Generally speaking, narrow-body or single-aisle jets win for best fuel economy. Larger (wide-body or double-aisle) jets are heavier, and also have to haul more fuel. Smaller turboprops and regional jets spew more emissions per passenger — number crunchers typically measure this in terms of carbon dioxide emitted per passenger/seat per flight. But it’s not as if you can simply check a box for “narrow-body jet” and hop on to your desired destination: Smaller planes, naturally, fly shorter distances, but odds are that for a transoceanic journey, you’ll be cruising on one of those larger, double-aisled machines with a suite of bathrooms and Jurassic World on demand. So it’s probably helpful to look at a few other factors when making your travel decisions — factors you have a bit more control over.

Such as? How old the plane is, for one. Newer planes have much more fuel-efficient engines, weight-saving features such as lighter seats, and drag-reducing tweaks like upturned wings. And the more passengers we can sardine in there, the merrier (for the planet, if not necessarily for your elbow room) — less first-class seating means more room for others. The idea is that as more people pile in, per-person emissions go down, and airlines could even reduce their total number of flights. You can usually see what model of plane an airline uses for a particular flight when you’re shopping around, which can help you sniff out the best deal for the planet. Even better, the International Council on Clean Transportation has done much of the legwork for you, scouting out the most efficient airlines for domestic flights and transatlantic travel. Spoiler: Your hometown airline, Alaska, did quite well, Will.

We’ve made a lot of progress with aircraft over the years — 45 percent less fuel burn since the late ’60s — but we still have a long way to go. There are some very promising technologies on the horizon, and a limited number are already on the market. We power a handful of flights on clean, renewable biofuels, a switch that can slash 80 percent of jet fuel’s carbon footprint. Other exciting developments: ultralight carbon fiber planes! New “double-bubble” designs! Solar-powered planes! Special anti-bug coatings! (No, really: Dead-bug buildup is a real drag for plane wings.)

Here’s hoping we can green up our global fleet swiftly. Though the EPA recently decided that aircraft emissions contribute to climate change and endanger human health (Welcome to the club, guys!), planes carried 3.57 billion passengers last year — and all signs indicate that number will increase. Heard how the mountain won’t come to Muhammad, so Muhammad has to go to the mountain? Well, if we can’t stop Muhammad from going, at least we can use our collective physics and engineering brilliance to vastly improve the plane he takes to get there.

Q.Are solar panels better or worse for the environment when I live in a state with utilities that already come mostly from renewables? I understand there are lots of rare metals in them and I just got done reading How Bad Are Bananas, which seemed to indicate it’s a bad choice due to their total carbon footprint.

Christy C.Vashon, WA

A. Dearest Christy,

My apologies to the Bard, but your question has me pacing the floor and muttering soliloquies: “To go solar or not to go solar? Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to capture one’s own sunlight or to tap one’s utility’s renewable power sources …” I’ve half a mind to spend my free time this winter writing up a modern theatrical adaptation in which Hamlet agonizes over an electricity upgrade to the Danish castle.

All this drama comes, as you note, from the fact that solar panels, for all their sustainability cred, do have their own environmental impact. But then again, so does hydropower — another clean energy source, and a large chunk of Washington state’s power mix. Both have a big edge over fossil fuels such as coal and natural gas. But which wins in a head-to-head smackdown?

First, let’s take a closer look at the options. Solar panels, once installed, happily churn out carbon-free electricity. But it’s true that building them involves potentially problematic mining for silicon, then the use of toxic chemicals, energy, and water. On the plus side, some panels are greener than others: Models built in Europe have half the carbon footprint of their Chinese counterparts. And they’re very long-lasting (25 years or more), which helps spread that impact thin over the life of the system.

Then we have hydropower, also in the carbon-free club when up and running. But we shouldn’t forget that building dams has a big effect on the surrounding area, from flooding habitat (for people and wildlife) to changing the health of the river’s ecosystem to the carbon emissions from constructing the thing in the first place. On the plus side, some number crunchers give hydro the edge in total life cycle emissions. According to a 2014 IPCC report, median lifetime emissions for hydro are 24 grams of carbon dioxide equivalent per kilowatt-hour of power, while rooftop solar panels’ are 41 (to compare, coal gets a big, nasty 820).

So which is the best way to keep those lights turned on, Christy? In environmental matters like this — unlike in wrestling matches or The Voice sing-offs — there’s not always a clear-cut winner. But I took your question to several experts, and while the general response was a bit murky, it leans toward Team Solar.

For one thing, even though Washington is a big hydropower state, it still relies on some fossil fuels (as does every other state). By going your own sunny way, you can be sure the power you’re using is clean. What’s more, you might be greening up the entire region’s power supply by spinning sunlight into power at home.

“[If you install solar panels], there’s the possibility that that hydropower would be exported to another state and reduce use of a coal plant,” notes Sarah Kurtz, a principal scientist at the National Renewable Energy Laboratory. That’s because using your own solar power would reduce the demand on the energy grid, freeing up those electrons to serve elsewhere.

“There’s still a lot of room to reduce emissions from a regional perspective, even if you’re in a hydro-dominated utility yourself,” agrees Cameron Yourkowski, senior policy manager at the nonprofit Renewable Northwest. Because hydropower is very likely to be cheaper than dirty energy, it will displace another utility’s fossil fuel sources when it enters the open market, he says. Not only that, but generating your own juice close to home eliminates the energy losses that inevitably come from transmitting power long distances.

Patrick Nugent, coordinator for the nonprofit (and decidedly pro-solar) Solar Washington, added one more perk: “The sun will stick around predictably for over the next thousands (or millions) of years. Not only is there collateral damage with hydro (i.e., affected salmon runs), but it might be harder for utilities to predict snowpack and rainfall amounts given the unpredictability of climate change.”

Let me pipe in with a few more Yay! Solar points: Rooftop panels can make you money through net metering, in which you can sell your excess power back to your utility (thereby cleaning up the overall energy mix for everyone, by the way). And they boost the value of your home, to the tune of $15,000 or more. There is an upfront cost to installing a system, but these bonuses, plus any tax credits you may qualify for, help ease the sting until your panels pay themselves off.

It’s true — your home base puts you in a good place for energy. But let this be a reminder to us all that we can always do better. And on that note, there’s a script I really should be working on …

When disposing of food waste, what’s better: putting it down the garbage disposal, or disposing of it in the solid waste stream? I know my water treatment plant incinerates solids, and my waste provider landfills its waste. Which uses less energy?

JakeWorcester

A. Dearest Jake,

This is the kind of question we face multiple times every day, but I daresay it’s especially timely this season. Soon enough, we’ll all be poised over our collective sinks, scraping forks at the ready, wondering what to do with all those turkey carcasses, potato skins, and Aunt Mildred’s leftover brussels sprouts. Garbage disposal? Garbage? Feed it all to the dog? What’s a conscientious eater to do?

You probably already know this, Jake, so at the risk of being repetitive: The very best option is none of the above. First and foremost, let’s do all we can to prevent that waste from happening in the first place. Perfectly good food that ends up tossed away is a waste of the land, water, and resources required to grow and transport it to your kitchen. After that, composting should be our next choice: It keeps waste out of the landfill and the incinerator, plus it transforms our throwaways into a rich, nourishing soil amendment (for free!). In short: Compost rules. Think it’s hard? It’s not! Don’t have the space or permission to pull it off? There are options for you!

But I get it. Maybe you’re dealing with food waste that can’t be composted in the backyard — your bones, fats, and gristles. Or maybe, for whatever reason, you’re waiting until next spring to get your compost in gear. In those cases, we need to look at our less-awesome alternatives, the garbage disposal and the trash. And here, much depends on your local facilities.

When you throw food waste in the garbage, it often makes its way to a landfill. That’s problematic because oxygen is in short supply deep in those pits, which means organic materials release lots of climate-warming methane as they decompose. It is possible to capture that methane and burn it for electricity or heat — a much better outcome than letting it waft into the atmosphere. But not all landfills do this, sadly.

On the other hand, when you wash those kale ribs or orange peels down the garbage disposal, they ride the waterslide of our municipal plumbing system (or septic tank, but you should be careful about that). There, they’re filtered out and bacteria have at ‘em, converting the stuff into a concentrated substance called biosolids. What happens next is key: In some places, those biosolids just get tossed into the landfill. In others, biosolids get new life as fertilizer, compost, or tools used in reclaiming old mines and gravel pits. And in some — such as your neck of the woods, Jake — they’re burned. So if you readers haven’t already done your homework like Jake here, your first order of business is researching your local facilities to find out what’s going down near you.

Recycling those biosolids through compost or fertilizer (also called beneficial use, go figure) is the best ending to this story — and happily, what happens about 60 percent of the time. The stuff is a valuable soil additive, and besides, waste is a terrible thing to waste. So if your wastewater treatment plant does this, the garbage disposal is your best bet. On the other hand, if it does not, but your landfill captures methane, the garbage might be better. This is a good time to mention that garbage disposals use water and energy, too.

Things get tricky when your wastewater plant incinerates biosolids, though. On the pro side, burning it cuts down the volume by up to 80 percent (the leftovers go to, you guessed it, the landfill). And the resulting emissions can still be captured to produce power. On the con side, incineration uses energy and produces more carbon emissions than bacterial digestion, plus it pollutes the air. So in the disposal-to-incinerator-vs.-landfill question, we’re left with only imperfect solutions.

What are we to do? Do all we can to slash food waste, and then compost — that’s what. And whatever scraps are still left over, I’d hold my nose and throw them away. Not perfect, but little in this mixed-up, crazy world is. Let’s do good where we can.

I’ve been looking to switch banks for some time and the recent events in North Dakota have made my desire to fire Bank of America all the more urgent. I’m having a hard time finding information about banking institutions that are financially supportive of environmentally sustainable and socially responsible projects — or even banks that aren’t bankrolling dirty energy projects. For someone who is interested in changing banks, but who still needs some of the perks a big bank can offer, what are the best options?

MeredithPhiladelphia, Pennsylvania

A. Dearest Meredith,

When it comes to banks, we tend to pay the most attention to the stuff that directly affects us: interest rates, overdraft fees, whether or not our local branch gives away free lollipops (or is that just me?). It’s easy to overlook the fact that banks do a lot more than just babysit our hard-earned dollars. They also get their fingers in all kinds of investments and deals, including those that support energy projects such as the Dakota Access Pipeline — a 1,172-mile pipeline that would carry oil from North Dakota across four states, and carry a whole lotta polluting and racist baggage too. This controversial project would not be possible without cash from a number of big banks.

So welcome to the latest episode of Big Banks Behaving Badly! You’re right that Bank of America is one of the institutions funding the company that’s building the Dakota Access Pipeline — along with dozens of other banks, including Citibank, Wells Fargo, Goldman Sachs, and JPMorgan Chase. Environmentalists are targeting those banks and calling on them to halt the funding, and one Norwegian bank is now considering pulling out of the project.

You’re also right that plenty of the biggies support other fossil fuel development projects, from coal mining to deep-water oil drilling. This 2016 report card from the Rainforest Action Network grades the major banks on exactly this, and finds that many of them — including Bank of America — deserve to be sent to summer school.

So if we want our banks to better represent our green values, we know who not to patronize. But who is worthy of handling our stacks? Here are a few options:

Big banks that support renewable energy
The megabanks aren’t exclusively funding fossil fuels; many are also backing solar and wind power projects. Bloomberg has checked into which institutions have been supporting renewables and cutting their own carbon emissions. European banks are leading the way, but JPMorgan Chase cracked the top 10 in 2014. Still, even as Chase and other banks put money into renewables, they continue to show up as bad actors on RAN’s fossil-fuel report card. If money talks, these banks are talking out of both sides of their mouths — so read on for alternatives.

Credit unions
I’m a huge fan of credit unions: They’re nonprofits, they usually offer excellent interest rates and low fees, and they invest in local projects rather than dirty international dealings. I’m not sure what perks you’re looking for, Meredith, but credit unions offer plenty of services just like the Wall Street outfits do — so I encourage you to check out what’s available in your area.

Community development banks
You say “socially responsible projects,” I think “community development bank.” These institutions (which can also be credit unions) might not focus specifically on eco-friendly investments, but they do make a point of serving the financially underserved: local people, institutions, businesses, and nonprofits that might not qualify for loans elsewhere. These aren’t available everywhere (though I did find one in Philly); search here to see if there are options near you.

Best of luck in your quest for a new home for your money! Switching banks takes a little bit of logistical wrangling, but it’s well worth the, er, investment (here are tips and step-by-step directions). And make sure to tell your current institution exactly why you’re bailing. How will things ever get better if the big guys don’t know what they’re doing wrong?

I cannot find the be-all, end-all guidance as to what kinds of plastic bags and plastic films can be recycled. Merchant bags for sure, but what about all that other plastic sheeting? Cereal bags? Shrink wrap packaging? Saran wrap? It’s all plastic film to me, but am I fudging up the system by dropping these in my supermarket barrel of plastic bag recycling?

Bagging VanceHouston, Texas

A. Dearest Bagging Vance,

Recycling confusion is vexing indeed. I get more questions from my dear readers on this topic than on any other. So many of you fervently wish to do your best, but you’re not quite sure how. Must I wash out my jars? How important is sorting, really? Can I recycle these batteries? What about that pencil stub?? This Color Me Badd mix tape??? It’s almost like a single plea rising from the Ask Umbra inbox: Please, just tell me what to do with my recycling, and I’ll do it!

And you’re right — it is confusing. Recycling is certainly an important part of the eco-friendly life (it’s my third-favorite R, as a matter of fact), but the powers that be could do a better job of explaining the process. To make matters worse, that process is different from region to region, state to state, and even town to town, depending on local companies and the recycling market in your area. So I’m afraid there is no such thing as a be-all, end-all guide to recycling. Bummer, I know. The stakes are made higher by the fact that trying to recycle the wrong items can contaminate the whole batch, accomplishing the exact opposite of what you were hoping to do.

All that said, we do have a few tools at our disposal. There’s the classic triple-arrow recycling symbol we all know and love.

That original ouroboros of sustainability dates back to the first Earth Day in 1970, and it still serves as an important signal that the item in hand can (probably) be recycled.

In 1988, we added the numbers 1 through 7 to (some of) our plastic packages and containers to identify which type of plastic they are, and thus help determine their recyclability. Some curbside recycling programs, for example, will tell you they don’t accept #5 or #6 plastic, so you know not to chuck those yogurt containers and Styrofoam clamshells in your bin.

These days, there’s a relatively new recycling triangle on the block: the How2Recycle label, launched by the nonprofit Sustainable Packaging Coalition in 2012.

This pumped-up version of the symbol adds crucial information, including how to prep the container for recycling (from “rinse and insert lid” to “empty and reattach pump”), what material it is (plastic, metal, coated paper, multilayer, etc.), which parts of a multicomponent item might qualify for recycling, and guidance on how to go about recycling it (“widely recycled,” “check locally,” and “store drop-off” among the options). It’s quite the step up from the symbol’s beginnings, and I suspect it will do a lot to demystify the recycling process for you and loads of others, Bagging Vance. For example, if you saw this How2Recycle label on the plastic wrap from your toilet paper, you’d know that it’s most likely recyclable through drop-off programs, and also know to make sure it’s clean and dry before you drop it.

The rub is that this label doesn’t show up on every container yet. At this point, brands must elect to use it (and pay for that right). You’ll notice it on packages from Target, Seventh Generation, and McDonald’s, to name just a few, but it’s far from ubiquitous right now. So here’s a little homework for us all: Next time you find yourself holding an empty container/bag/can/bottle and wondering what the heck to do with it, write, call, email, or tweet at the brand encouraging them to join up with How2Recycle.

In the meantime, there is something we can do — and it’s the single most helpful step there is. In fact, even if every container in the land starts sporting the How2Recycle label, we’ll still need to do it sometimes. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: When you have a question about recyclability, check with your local recycling programs. They’re the only ones who can tell you exactly what’s accepted and what’s not in your neck of the woods. How? First, consult your city’s government website: These often have helpful lists of recyclables. Question still unanswered? Call the recycling department or company directly to ask. In the case of plastic-bag drop-off boxes, you can always grill the retailer for clarification.

That’s a roundabout way of answering your question about plastic film recycling, I know. But this issue goes deeper than a few cereal bags, so I think guiding you to dig up your own answers to local recycling conundrums will help a lot in the long run. It’s like one of my favorite mottos says: Give a man a fish and feed him for a day. Teach a man how to find recycling info for the wrapping around that fish and boost recycling rates everywhere. Snappy, isn’t it?

I’m tired of my compost not cooking. Can I just bury it around my plants and pull the stray volunteer seedling that emerges?

KristinaCleveland, Ohio

A. Dearest Kristina,

I’m hearing some frustration from you here. Perhaps also disappointment, annoyance, resentment, even a twinge of perturbedness — enough to make you want to throw in the towel on this whole composting enterprise. I understand, and what’s more, assure you that you’re not alone. Composting sometimes requires trial and error before you get the hang of it, and you’re not the first to think about digging a pit out back and burying the whole uncooked mess.

So, could you simply disappear your as-yet-uncomposted pile around your gladiolas, gangland-style? Well, yes (and more on that below). But Kristina, I urge you not to give up on your compost just yet. I’ll bet that one of only a few problems is to blame for its poky transformation from scraps into garden gold, and a few simple fixes can get things back on track. So let’s pull out the pitchfork and dig in.

A compost pile needs three basic things to produce rich compost: heat, water, and oxygen. The aerobic bacteria (that is, the ones that need oxygen) do much of the dirty work of breaking down your scraps, and they need adequate airflow to function; without proper working conditions, they essentially go on strike, and anaerobic bacteria take over. These anaerobic microorganisms still get the job done, but much more slowly, and they produce methane to boot — so it’s better to keep the aerobic bugs happy. Water is also important: too much and that airflow gets suffocated, too little and the bacteria can’t survive. The pile’s heat depends on this oxygen and moisture, and also on the mix of ingredients and size. I’m guessing we’re dealing with an imbalance to at least one of these big three elements in your compost pile, Kristina.

To figure out which one, head out back and give the pile a good look. Poke around with a stick or shovel; grab a handful and squeeze; dig into the middle of the heap. What do you see and feel?

It’s too wet: If you discover slimy layers, and/or you can squeeze more than a few drops of water from a handful, you’re probably running short on oxygen. To fix this, get in there with a shovel or pitchfork and give the pile a good turning over, fluffing it up as you go, to aerate it. Consider adding some more dry materials, such as crispy leaves, shredded corncobs, or straw; tossing in twiggy ingredients will also help maintain space for better airflow. Continue turning the pile every couple of weeks to make sure oxygen is really getting in there. Ideally, the pile should feel like a damp sponge. You might also want to add a tarp or other cover to protect it from the elements, or the next cold November rain could make all your work for naught (as well as make you nostalgic for the era of bandana headbands).

It’s too dry: On the other hand, if your pile is all dry, woody material or crumbly stuff, you’ll also need to grab that pitchfork and get turnin’. But this time, enlist a sprinkler or drip hose to add some much-needed water to the mix. Throwing in more wet materials, such as kitchen scraps or yard clippings, will also help.

The balance is off: Maybe it’s not only the moisture content. Could it be your mix of “greens” (high-nitrogen items) and “browns” (high-carbon items) in the pile? You want to keep these elements in the proper ratio for optimal composting; head over here for more on how to pull that off. Backyard piles are often short on those nitrogen-y greens, so adding food scraps, alfalfa pellets, blood meal, or chicken manure can kick-start the action. It’s also helpful to chop or shred materials more finely, especially additions like eggshells or brush trimmings, for quicker decomposition. Have at it with a shovel or machete, or run over materials with your lawnmower.

It’s just too small: Here’s an easy one — compost piles need to be about three cubic feet in size to hit those higher temperatures you’re looking for. Is yours undersized? Collect more ingredients to get things cooking.

Or maybe your level of discontent with your compost pile is so great, you don’t have the wherewithal for all this troubleshooting. This brings us back to your original question: Can you just bury all this stuff? You can indeed: This is its own form of composting, in fact, called pit composting. Just dig a 12-inch-deep hole and fill it with your organic trash (just no dairy, meat, or pet poop, a rule that applies to regular compost piles, too). Repeat as necessary, and the soil microbes will do their thing. If you’d like to get a little fancier about it, you might also try trench composting, where you bury the scraps between rows of your garden for added fertilizer next season.

As it happens, now is a great time for a compost makeover. Decomposition will slow or stop during the coldest months, but your newly refurbished pile will be ready for a fresh start come spring. Think of it this way: You’ll be way ahead on your New Year’s resolutions this year.

Do any 100-percent compostable or recyclable toothbrushes exist outside of boar bristle brushes? I’m trying to eliminate all landfill waste from my bath and cosmetic products, but sticking a pig-tasting brush in my mouth is less than appealing.

Elizabeth L.St. Paul, Minnesota

A. Dearest Elizabeth,

If I were to write a book about going zero-waste in the bathroom — and from soap to TP to lip balm, there’s certainly enough fodder for one — I’d have to devote an entire chapter to dental hygiene alone. We’d need to cover floss, of course, plus toothpaste, tongue scrapers, and the greenest way to keep one’s grill sparkling-clean. So I’m a bit relieved that you’re asking only about toothbrushes. Those, at least, we can handle in one column.

The gurus over at the American Dental Association recommend that we swap out toothbrushes every three to four months — so each one of us diligent brushers might be tearing through 320 or more of these bristly plastic sticks in our lifetimes. Picture everyone in St. Paul tossing that many brushes into the landfill, and those slim dental tools start to add up, don’t they? So it’s smart to do what we can do reduce such throwaways.

Luckily, Elizabeth, I don’t believe that requires resigning yourself to porcine mouth twice a day. True, boar bristle brushes are indeed an option, and they will biodegrade (unlike the nylon that makes up your standard bristles). I have never used one, but my research has uncovered both positive and negative reviews: It seems some people complain of a “funky” odor, but note that it fades fairly quickly. Perhaps more concerning is the fact that boar bristles are often stiffer than the average toothbrush’s, which can be rough on your enamel. Boar bristles are also usually sourced as a byproduct of the meat industry in China or India, which, depending on your views on animal products, might make this a no-go for you. And then there’s just the plain old gross factor, which sounds like it applies here (hey, I get it).

There is one more type of 100-percent compostable dental tool out there: the chew stick or neem stick. These are literally sticks from the neem tree that you nibble into a bristly tip, carefully use to brush your chompers, then trim before your next brushing session. They sound rather primitive, I know (and indeed, have been used for centuries), but I found one study reporting they’re on par with regular toothbrushes when it comes to removing plaque and other measures of dental health. I haven’t used one of these either, so I can’t endorse ‘em myself. But if you’re truly devoted to your zero-waste goals, they might be something to try. (Talk to your dentist first though, won’t you?)

And if these two totally compostable options are just too odd? That’s OK. We can still reduce our toothbrush-related waste without going that far. And while every little bit counts, I also believe in not sweating the small stuff — and the bristles on your toothbrush most definitely qualify as small stuff. So let’s brush up on a few not-entirely-biodegradable-but-still-eco-friendlier tools.

You can find several toothbrushes with biodegradable handles out there, even if not bristles: A few companies fashion theirs out of bamboo, that quick-growing, light-on-the-land woody grass we environmentalists also like for our sheets, flooring, and bike frames. This bamboo brand has further reduced its plastic content by making its bristles from 62 percent castor bean oil. This company makes its brushes from compostable bioplastic using “leftover plant material from American farms.” Some of these brushes have “binchotan charcoal” bristles, but know that these scrubbers are typically charcoal-infused nylon, which means the bristles are still not biodegradable. When it’s time for a new brush, these companies often suggest ripping out the nylon bristles with pliers before composting the handles — which actually sounds like a nice stress reliever to me.

Then there are the toothbrushes that are recycled and/or recyclable. These guys produce handles from recycled #5 plastic that can be recycled again in some curbside programs (but check with your local recyclers, as not everyone will accept them). This toothbrush is made from recycled yogurt containers, and you can give it new life when you’re done through the Gimme 5 drop-off/mail-in program. Similarly, TerraCycle accepts brushes from Colgate. As we’ve recently discussed, buying recycled stuff when we need to acquire new items helps to support the recycling market, so it’s a smart move.

One more option for you and your pearly whites, Elizabeth: toothbrushes with replaceable heads, which let you keep your handle basically ad infinitum. This one looks like your typical brush, while this one (made of recycled wood and paper) has a certain funky charm, and this recycled aluminum one is pure modernist chic. Bet you haven’t thought about your toothbrush as a style statement before, eh?

Best of luck on your zero-waste journey. It can be a twisty road with many challenges, but I bet you’ll find it worthwhile. In the meantime, I wish you fresh breath and zero cavities.

I’m expecting a bunch of trick-or-treaters this year. Is there anything I can hand out that’s somewhat healthy and eco-friendly, instead of the usual sugar overload? Please don’t suggest pencils or pennies or anything like that — kids want treats, and I don’t want my house to be a total bummer for them (nor do I want angry goblins to egg my house later).

Emily H.Vienna, Virginia

A. Dearest Emily,

I appreciate your desire to keep All Hallows’ Eve fun for the kiddos while standing up against Big Candy. I’m still a fan of handing out nonfood treats (temporary tattoos! stickers! markers!), but I get where you’re coming from: I was a young goblin once too, and I certainly remember the thrill of adding a chocolate bar to my stash.

It’s no secret that the sugar avalanche awaiting the nation’s children on Halloween is not exactly great for their health. But beyond that, your conventional Butter-Snicker-Milky-Kit-Joys aren’t doing the planet many favors, either. From problems with palm oil to ecological damage from sugarcane production to GMO concerns around sugar beets to the disturbing human rights and deforestation issues surrounding chocolate, Halloween candy starts to look very scary indeed.

It doesn’t have to be this way, Emily. You can conjure up some tasty treats that also manage to be healthier, both physically and environmentally, than the usual trick-or-treat fare.

Store-bought snacks

Instead of dishing out candy, you could go for little packets of regular kid-approved snacks, things like:

string cheese

dried fruits

nuts

trail mix

mini energy bars

low-sugar applesauce

Your local ghouls might not go for them before they inhale their candy corn, but they’ll get around to enjoying the snack packs soon enough.

Something a little more decadent, you say? Try stocking up with one of these:

Maybe, between painting your face to look like a sugar skull and adjusting your fairy wings, you would have time to whip up a little something yourself? There’s no better way to make sure you’re handing out treats that are ecologically friendly, healthful, and delicious. The key here, as with all of our eating choices, is to focus on local, organic ingredients whenever possible, and to opt for fresh over processed when we can.

Some parents might get spooked about goodies that aren’t store-bought, packaged, and sealed, so this route is best if you know the families in your neighborhood and/or you include labels with your name and address so everyone knows where the treats came from. Get more ideas along these lines from this Homemade Halloween Treat Manifesto.

Now, what’s the healthiest possible Halloween treat? Whole fruits and veggies! I know — if anything would serve as a total buzzkill for the neighborhood trick-or-treaters, it would be unadorned produce. But if you take a moment to cleverly disguise those wholesome ingredients, suddenly it’s as if you’ve cast a witch’s spell to turn a boring old apple into a totally awesome treat. To wit:

goblin grins: Apple slices, a smear of peanut butter, and mini marshmallows come together to make a creepy monster smile.

orange pumpkins: What to do with that juicy orange? Add a celery stick for a stem and it’s now a mini-pumpkin treat.

apple mummies: A little gauze and two candy eyes make an apple suddenly Halloween-appropriate. Sweeten the deal with a little caramel if you like.

A few more ideas for the crafty cooks among us: How about these creepy popcorn-filled monster hands? Or these spider sandwiches made from crackers and PB, with pretzels for legs and raisins for eyes? Or these mini-ghosts fashioned from string cheese? And let’s not forget the favorite caramel- or chocolate-dipped apple, either.

I also submit that there is one time-honored way to make even naked apples fun for youngsters: Float them in a kiddie pool in your yard and have the kids bob for them. Classic.

Might one of these festive suggestions do the trick, Emily? Some of these ideas are so creative and fun, I daresay you could find yourself the star of the block.

No matter what you choose, don’t forget to save a few extras for yourself. This is a holiday, after all, and it’s not Halloween without a treat or two.

With the cold weather coming on fast, I am curious if I’m losing too much heat from my house due to the doggie door in my laundry room. I like that my two large dogs can come and go, and I never have to worry about accidents inside. The doggie door is about 15 by 20 inches and has double plastic flaps, but they definitely do not completely seal off the opening to winter wind. I thought about hanging a heavy curtain in the entrance to the room, which perhaps would contain any heat loss. Thoughts?

And is it also possible that the dogs themselves give off enough heat to make up for the loss? I know I can tell the temperature difference in the bedroom when they are there.

Norman S.Missoula, Montana

A. Dearest Norman,

A dog owner’s blessings are many: devoted canine companionship, fierce anti-burglar services, frequent licks in the face (if you’re into that sort of thing). But so, too, are his sacrifices: poop scooping, dog hair, frequent licks in the face (if you’re not into that sort of thing). And as winter approaches, add this one to the latter list: doggie doors and their effects on home energy efficiency. What’s a responsible owner of two independent, come-and-go pooches to do?

I’m afraid you already have your answer as to whether or not you’re losing heat as the weather turns, Norman. If the door flaps “definitely do not completely seal off the opening to winter wind,” then sadly, yes, you are. If wind can sneak in, then warm air can sneak out, forcing your heater to work harder to replace that loss. You might also be hemorrhaging heat through the plastic flaps themselves, as they’re not made of the heartiest material. Do you also feel drafts on laundry day? That’s another dead giveaway that something is amiss.

Just how much heat loss we’re talking depends on the quality of the doggie door and how well it fits into your people door or wall, so I can’t give you precise numbers. One estimate for a leaky cat door reported an owner might pay an extra $6.72 per month in heating costs, and that’s for a significantly smaller portal — so it’s possible your beast-sized opening could push your bills higher still. No matter the exact price, your pet door is a breach in your home’s thermal envelope, and that’s wasteful. You wouldn’t leave your windows cracked in the winter, right? You don’t want to let your furnace’s hard-earned heat pour outside.

Luckily, you can button up your home without sacrificing the convenience of the doggie door. I do think a heavy curtain in the doorway would help somewhat, but I’m betting you’ll do even better by upgrading the pet door itself.

If you’re the handy type, this turns out to be a simple and affordable DIY project. What you need is A) extra insulation and B) an airtight seal. Your double plastic flaps are a good step toward A already, because they help trap a pocket of insulating air between them. But that’s not enough without B. You can achieve this through weatherstripping your pet door, just as you would with any other door or window (now’s a great time to do the whole house!). Adding magnets to keep the flaps in place might also fortify them against stiff winds. For inspiration, check out this step-by-step guide to building a tightly sealed dog door.

On the other hand, if woodshop wasn’t your best course back in high school, you can always replace your old doggie door with a better, more efficient ready-made model. Options range from magnetically enhanced double-flap designs to this remarkable electronic door, which opens automatically when your pet (and only your pet) approaches and then closes up tightly behind, also thwarting burglars and marauding raccoons. That last one — which the manufacturer claims is airtight enough for passively heated homes — will run you upwards of $1,700, but perhaps it’s just the ticket for the pampered pooch who has everything.

No matter which option you choose, there is one surefire way to know just how airtight that doggie door is: a home energy audit, including a blower-door test that pinpoints air leaks. While these professional assessments of your house’s energy efficiency are probably a bit pricey if all you want is to test your dog door (they typically cost a few hundred bucks), if you haven’t already had an audit, you might want to get one done anyway. It’s an excellent first step toward weatherizing your entire home — and potentially saving big on both energy and cash.

As for the impact of your pups’ body heat? People certainly radiate excess warmth — to the point where some buildings harness it and use it to heat other buildings — so I don’t see why a couple of giant, warm-blooded dogs would be any different. But rather than using that as an excuse to leave your leaky pet door alone, do one better: Fix up the door, then turn down your thermostat a few degrees and let man’s best friend pick up the slack. Snuggling with a toasty pooch belongs right up there with the best blessings of dog ownership, after all.

I usually buy recycled aluminum foil, but I’m wondering: Is most foil made from recycled aluminum, and is the recycled labeling just a way to charge more? I know making aluminum from scratch is more expensive, and most aluminum cans on the shelf are recycled, yes? Are there other products that are almost always made from recycled materials?

JMWarwick

A. Dearest JM,

When I was a wee lass, I saved up my allowance for weeks to send away for what was advertised as an “Authentic Rock from the Planet Venus!” I tore open the box eagerly, only to discover an ordinary chunk that looked suspiciously like one of my dad’s charcoal briquettes. I learned early the pain of being suckered, and vowed to use a much more discriminating eye for shopping from then on. I hear echoes of that incident in your letter: the sneaking suspicion that someone has taken your commendable desire to buy eco-friendly products and exploited it.

While that certainly does happen (greenwashing, anyone?), I don’t think your aluminum foil purchases make you a sucker, JM. It’s true that aluminum is highly (and basically infinitely) recyclable, and also that making the stuff from virgin materials is more expensive. That’s why, yes, the average aluminum can contains 70 percent recycled material, according to the Aluminum Association, an industry group, with about 40 percent coming from postconsumer content. (That postconsumer part is important, by the way; we’ll get to that in a minute.) It’s harder to find numbers on the recycled content in your average roll of foil, but I did turn up one estimate from a few years back stating that 25 to 40 percent of a “regular” foil roll is recycled pre-consumer material.

Still, I’d encourage you to continue buying the 100-percent recycled stuff if you can — for foil as well as any other product — for so many reasons. Recycled content saves natural resources, so we can mine fewer metals, cut down fewer trees, and tap less petroleum. It uses less energy to produce, sometimes dramatically so; recycled aluminum can be whipped up with 95 percent less power than virgin aluminum. Recycled material slashes pollution and saves water, too. And let’s not forget it prevents our consumer castoffs from languishing away in a landfill.

So you can see the environmental benefits of recycling as much stuff as possible — and we need to support that process at both ends, not just by recycling our waste but also by buying products made from recycled materials. Remember, the recycling market is a business: Recyclers do their thing to make money off our old bottles and cans, not (only) out of the goodness of their hearts. Voting with our dollars for recycled products increases demand, helping to build a steady market for such materials. And your picking 100-percent recycled foil over standard, partially recycled foil sends a message to foil-makers everywhere that we want a greener option for covering our leftover potatoes. Sometimes recycled products do cost a bit more, it’s true, but I say the premium is worth it if your budget allows.

Discriminating consumer that you are, JM, I also encourage you to read the fine print on any recycled items before you buy. You’re looking for the highest percentage of postconsumer recycled content possible — that is, made from old products that have already been used and discarded. We’re talking plastic soda bottles, steel bean cans, newspapers, that kind of thing. Pre-consumer recycled content comes from manufacturing scraps. Let me be clear: They’re both good. But postconsumer materials are most likely to have been diverted from a landfill, plus they help build up that recycling market we’ve been discussing. Manufacturing scraps are usually recycled anyway, so your purchase of a product made with pre-consumer recycled content has less of an impact.

Finally, yes, there are several consumer products that you can be confident contain a significant portion of recycled materials. Steel cans (what we colloquially call “tin” cans) are usually at least 25 percent recycled, if not almost entirely so, and other steel products (car parts, bikes, building materials) are also good bets. “Pulp” containers, such as cardboard egg cartons, paperboard (like cereal boxes), and some plastic bottles also stand a good chance of containing some recycled content. Glass, another recycle-forever material, is also often reborn as new bottles and jars; one U.K. nonprofit reports that bottles range from 29 to 71 percent recycled glass. If that’s not the excuse you need to enjoy one of this season’s delectable pumpkin beers — if you’re not going the growler route, of course — I don’t know what is.

I work all day on a laptop (a MacBook Air). I’d like to prolong the life of my computer and battery so I don’t have the expense and waste of having to replace the laptop earlier than necessary. So what’s the best approach to plugging the laptop in vs. running it off the battery? When it’s 100-percent charged, should I unplug it and let the battery charge drop down low before plugging it in again? Or should I keep it plugged in all day long while I work?

Jamal J.Princeton, New Jersey

A. Dearest Jamal,

Most people understand that repurposing or recycling something is better than throwing it away. But you know what’s even better than that? Not recycling that thing, because it still works perfectly — or, at least, postponing that inevitable moment of mortality as long as possible. In our culture of planned obsolescence and gimme-that-hot-new-tech upgrades, this is a somewhat radical idea. I tip my hat to you, my status quo–shaking friend.

“Maintain it, don’t disdain it!” could be your creed. Apply it to most material things, but it’s particularly important with laptops and their lithium-ion batteries, as well as other electronics. Not only do these gadgets cost a pretty penny, but manufacturing them (and their batteries) requires water, energy, and rare-metal mining, and also brings up concerns about potentially toxic substances and human rights for miners. In short: The fewer you go through in your working life, the better.

To that end: There is indeed a plug-in protocol you can use to maximize your battery’s overall lifespan, Jamal, and it’s all about minimizing stress on that hardworking power pack.

The No. 1 thing that shortens a lithium-ion battery’s life? Letting it drain to zero. So try never to do that.

Why? Let’s start with a quick vocabulary primer. Depth of discharge refers to how much of a battery’s power has been used up: 40 percent depth of discharge means it has 60 percent of its life left, and 100 percent means you’ve let the battery run dry. A charge or discharge cycle is one full drop from 100-percent charged to dead as a doornail (or multiple partial discharges that add up to 100 percent). These two concepts are directly connected: The larger the average depth of discharge, the fewer total discharge cycles you get out of the battery.

In other words, if you regularly let that battery gauge dip into the red zone, then fully recharge it, the battery will degrade more quickly. And we’re not just talking a little difference: According to Battery University, an online juggernaut of battery information, if you tend to drain your battery low and then charge it back up to 100 percent, you’ll get about 300-500 discharge cycles before the battery starts losing capacity. But if you go with frequent partial recharges, you can boost total discharge cycles up as high as 4,700 before the battery’s performance starts slipping (and before you have to get much more aggressive about commandeering the outlet at the coffeehouse).

So is it best to just leave it plugged in at 100-percent charge all the time? Nope. As it happens, being completely full also stresses out a lithium-ion battery, aka the Goldilocks of portable power sources. The sweet spot, according to battery experts, is between 40 and 80 percent charged. In a perfect world, then, you’d drain the battery to 40, recharge it to 80, and repeat for years of top-notch battery performance. If monitoring your battery levels to this degree sounds a bit obsessive, well, it is. But unfortunately, I couldn’t find any easy apps or settings tweaks that would do this automatically for you. (Hey, developers: Opportunity alert!)

That said, it’s not a terrible practice to leave your laptop plugged in at times. You won’t “overcharge” a lithium-ion battery; once it tops up, the battery essentially steps off to the side and lets the power grid run the computer, waiting until you need it again. So while keeping the battery full does cause strain, it’s better than a 100-percent depth of discharge.

If you are tethered to the outlet for a while, some experts suggest removing your laptop’s battery entirely (though that’s not an option for Macs because they have integrated batteries). Removing it protects it from a lithium-ion battery’s No. 2 nemesis: heat. A battery’s optimal temperature zone is about 62 to 72 degrees (what a coincidence — that’s my optimal zone, too), and anything hotter than about 95 degrees can really wreak havoc. So keep your laptop out of hot cars, direct summer sunlight, Bikram yoga class, etc. And make sure to keep the cooling vents clear — work at a table or desk, not in bed with your computer on a quilt on your lap.

There you have the secret to long life: Watch your power levels, and keep it cool. And you know, I suspect following that advice might translate to a longer, happier life for ourselves as well as our batteries.

I’ve been saving my yarn scraps all year to put out for the birds while they’re building their nests, but I’m wondering about synthetics, like acrylic. Most of my knitting is done with wool, but occasionally I need a synthetic for a specific project. I worry about letting those scraps “into the wild.” What’s a knitter to do?

Linda J.Fairport, New York

A. Dearest Linda,

I confess, I hadn’t heard of the practice of leaving yarn out in the yard to help the birds — but a little research showed me you’re far from the only one who does it. I found mentions of such upcycling from the National Wildlife Federation, the Humane Society, and Bird Watcher’s Digest. Helping our avian friends feather their nests: What a lovely notion.

Except, it turns out, when your well-meaning nest supplies aren’t biodegradable. Cotton and wool yarns and twine are A-OK: Birds love ‘em, and when the last fledgling has left the nest, these small bits will harmlessly break down. (Just clip the scraps to two inches or shorter, to prevent any tangle-ups.) But synthetic fibers like acrylic, polyester, or nylon are a different story. Created in a lab using chemicals and various polymers, they won’t break down — at least, not in any meaningful time frame.

And I’m afraid it gets worse. We’ve just begun to understand the environmental dangers posed by microplastics sneaking into our lakes, rivers, and oceans. These tiny shreds of synthetic fibers — many washing out of our polyester, nylon, and acrylic clothing and entering water bodies via our laundry wastewater — build up in the ecosystem, absorb pollutants, and are too often swallowed by aquatic life (a threat to them and to those higher up the food chain, ahem). I’m not sure if synthetic yarn scraps would cause direct harm to birds, but they could hurt fish and other water dwellers when they blow into your nearest waterway. So the last thing we want to do is voluntarily introduce synthetic fibers into the wild.

Instead, Linda, there are plenty of other things you can do to turn your backyard into a bird heaven. Instead of leaving out scraps of human-made items, offer your local winged pals natural nest materials: on top of those biodegradable yarns, think cotton string, cotton puffs, even pet or human hair. You can also install a ready-made nest box or two. And simply landscaping with lots of different types of trees, shrubs, and flowers will provide plenty of nest fodder — birds have been successfully building their dream homes without our help for millennia, after all, and they will work wonders with plain old vegetation (even if such ingredients lack the Extreme Makeover: Home Edition flair of brightly colored yarn scraps).

]]>http://grist.org/article/is-synthetic-yarn-for-the-birds/feed/1Goldfinch with nesting materialsWhat’s the best way to deal with restaurant leftovers?http://grist.org/living/whats-the-best-way-to-deal-with-restaurant-leftovers/
http://grist.org/living/whats-the-best-way-to-deal-with-restaurant-leftovers/#commentsThu, 13 Oct 2016 09:30:35 +0000http://grist.org/?p=351819]]>

Sometimes I ask for a to-go box when I’m eating out, but I’m always panged with environmental guilt when the server brings back a Styrofoam clamshell. But I hate wasting food, especially delicious restaurant food. Would it be better to leave my leftovers on my plate to be thrown away, or should I take them home at the cost of unrecyclable Styrofoam?

Rebecca S.

A. Dearest Rebecca,

What you’ve described is a damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don’t scenario. Throwing away food is a terrible waste of resources (and delicious restaurant dishes), but Styrofoam, aka polystyrene, is a hard-to-recycle, never-breaks-down landfill-filler made from fossil fuels. The outcome looks bleak indeed — except that I believe there’s a third way here you haven’t considered. Let’s think outside the to-go box.

Here’s my proposal: Simply take your own reusable containers with you when you dine. Voilà — you can turn yesterday’s dinner into tomorrow’s lunch, guilt- and Styrofoam-free. I can foresee only a couple of obstacles to pulling this off, and both can be dodged.

Two, you must remember to actually bring your containers before you can use them. This might take a bit of practice, but I’m confident you can get in the habit, Rebecca. After all, many of us have trained ourselves to carry reusable coffee mugs and reusable shopping bags, and this is a logical next step. Collapsible containers like this one make it even easier.

If you do forget and find yourself in a DIYDDIYD predicament at the table: Take the leftovers home in the polystyrene, just this once. And use the opportunity to ask the restaurant to switch to something a bit better for the planet, such as compostable boxes. (If your guilt still demands penance, you could pick one of these Styrofoam-reuse art projects and bring new life to that takeout box.)

Most importantly, keep the bigger picture in mind: Where you dine and what you order matter too, not just what you carry your leftovers home in. Eating at a certified organic restaurant is an excellent choice if you can find one near you, and cutting back on meat is one of the best ways to shrink your environmental footprint.

I’ve been using food pouches for my kids for a couple of years and have horrible guilt. Lately, I’ve been saving them and have been trying to figure out if they can be recycled. I think I can bring the tops to the Preserve Gimme 5 bin at Whole Foods, but it also looks like TerraCycle will take both the pouch and cap. But then I found an old article saying TerraCycle is all about greenwashing. Can you please help me figure this out?

StephanieArlington

A. Dearest Stephanie,

I don’t have any kids, and I’m no toddler. But I confess I’ve passed those baby/toddler food pouches at the grocery store on more than one occasion and thought, “Mmm, I wonder if I could get away with eating that as my afternoon snack.” I mean, roasted pumpkin and coconut rice? Pears, mangoes, and papayas? Don’t mind if I do!

I can see the appeal of ready-to-eat treats in such packages even beyond the delectable-sounding flavors. Parents like ‘em because they’re a convenient, packable, (slightly) less messy way to keep those little mouths fed. Companies like ‘em because they’re shelf-stable and cheap to produce. And believe it or not, there are reasons for environmentalists to like ‘em, too. Their shelf-stableness saves on energy because they don’t need to be refrigerated; they’re much smaller and lighter than alternative packages, like glass jars, so they require fewer resources to make; and they’re also cheaper and less fuel-intensive to ship. All these benefits help explain why we’re seeing more and more foods, from trail mix to coffee to pickles, pop up in flexible pouches.

But you’re familiar with their major downside, Stephanie: Flexible pouches are very difficult to recycle. That’s because they’re often made of multiple layers of different materials — including plastics such as PET and PE, aluminum foil, and paperboard — glued together. Individually, some of these layers are easily recyclable; but lasagna’d together, recycling them becomes a complicated and pricey endeavor. It’s the same issue that bedevils those aseptic cartons for soup, soy milk, and the like.

You’re right that the tops, at least, are a bit easier to resurrect into new products. The ones made from #2 plastic are curbside recyclable in some cities (other places can’t accept them because they’re too small to be sorted efficiently). If you buy Plum Organics brand, then the #5 plastic caps, as you note, can be dropped off or mailed in to Preserve’s Gimme 5 recycling program. But the pouches are trickier, and the New Jersey–based TerraCycle recycling program is one of the few outfits that does accept kid pouches from a few brands.

Good news: I’ve seen nothing to make me think TerraCycle is greenwashing anything. In its model, consumers send in hard-to-recycle items; the company then chops them, melts them, and sells them to be made into things like benches and pallets. Other companies help pay for the process in exchange for the right to print “recyclable through TerraCycle” on their goodies. Some criticize TerraCycle on the grounds that this doesn’t encourage manufacturers to switch to easily recyclable packaging; TerraCycle counters that these lighter-weight packages are an overall environmental win (for all the reasons we discussed above), so it’s better to keep them in play.

My take? In a perfect world, nobody would use any throwaway packaging at all, so there would be no need for such a service. But we don’t live in such a world. Yes, it would produce less waste for you to make all your toddler snacks at home and feed them to the kids on reusable dishes. It would also produce less packaging waste if we all grew our own fruits and vegetables and baked our own potato chips. But that’s not doable for most people in this day and age. I say, reduce your consumption as best you can, reuse as best you can, and then recycle as a third line of defense. And shipping hard-to-recycle items to TerraCycle is better than landfilling them. (If your kids are real pouch fiends and you have the time for DIY puree, you can take it down one more notch by switching to these reusable pouches instead of disposables.)

I absolve you of your guilt over squeezable pouches, Stephanie. They’re small fry, not one of the things worth much of your concern. Mom guilt has reached epic proportions in this country, so let’s make snack time, at least, a feel-good time for all.

Disposable clothes are driving me nuts. In particular, as we come into fall, I’m thinking about sweaters. These days, when I buy a new sweater, it starts to pill on the first wear and ends up looking terrible after just a few outings. If I want a sweater that lasts for decades instead of days, what materials should I be looking for? Wool? Cotton? Cashmere? Should I make sure it has no synthetic material at all? I do buy from thrift stores when I can, but I can’t always find good used options.

Ginger A.St. Louis, Missouri

A. Dearest Ginger,

Sensible cardigans. Sophisticated turtlenecks. Fuzzy pullovers. Whatever form a sweater may take, I’m a fan. In fact, I like fall for its sweater weather even more than its proliferation of pumpkin spice treats, and that’s saying something. (I’m not the only one.) So you’re absolutely right that a shoddily made sweater — or a shoddily made anything, really — is a buzzkill indeed.

We’re living in the era of fast fashion. With so many brands churning out uber-stylish pieces more quickly and cheaply than ever, quality tends to become an afterthought. Some might argue, “Who cares if your $17 sweater falls apart after a couple of wears? Just buy another one!” But of course you care, Ginger, and so should we all. The fashion industry has an enormous environmental footprint, from the water and chemicals required to process textiles to the shipping impacts of a global supply chain. That alone is a great reason not to go buck-wild on shopping sprees for items we don’t need, but then there’s also the issue of disposal.

Americans toss 13 million tons of clothing every year into the trash. Part of the problem is that we’re not recycling nearly enough of our castaways (the recycling rate for textiles is a dismal 9 percent). But we’re also buying more and more — millennials reportedly snap up five times more clothing than older generations, which translates to lots more waste when these on-trend, off-quality duds expire.

I love the way you’re rejecting this use-‘em-and-lose-‘em pattern, Ginger. But shopping carefully is just the start — how you wear and take care of your clothes matters a lot, too. Here’s your complete guide to making your sweaters (and all other clothing) last.

Buying

As you suspect, not all sweater materials are created equal. Wool, from both sheep (merino) and goats (cashmere), is among the most durable options, with merino usually taking the honors for strongest fiber. Synthetics — your nylons, polyesters, and rayons — often wear down more easily. Cotton falls somewhere in the middle. Good-quality materials will probably cost you more up front, but like so many things in life, you get what you pay for.

A word about fashion choices: If you’re playing the long game with your clothing, then it pays to make like Taylor Swift and her on-again, off-again flame and choose classic clothes that never go out of style.

Wearing & repairing

I’m all for limiting the total volume of your closet (I mean, how many sweaters does one really need for fall 2016?). But that said, wearing the same thing every day will wear it out more quickly. Collect enough pieces to rotate evenly, and everything will last a lot longer.

The dreaded pilling effect (when the fibers break or come loose) doesn’t mean the end for your sweaters. You can buy inexpensive gadgets to shave the pills off without damaging the rest of the fabric. You can also condition wool sweaters with lanolin once a year for pill prevention.

Mend it, don’t send it … to the landfill. It’s common sense, but far too many of us have lost the art of sewing up minor tears and holes (somewhere, a single tear rolls down your 6th-grade home-ec teacher’s cheek). Study up on basic fabric repairs, or pay someone else to do it — just don’t ditch a perfectly good item for a fixable flaw.

Washing

Every trip through the laundry takes a little bit off your clothes’ lives, so put off washing as long as you can. (Bonus: Less laundry!) Most clothes don’t need to be washed after every wear, especially not sweaters you pair with an underlayer.

When laundry day does roll around, hand-wash those sweaters. (What about dry cleaning, you ask? I don’t advise it.) DON’T wring them out, as that stretches and damages the fibers. DO lay them flat to dry. In fact, air-drying all the items in your wardrobe can extend their lifespans.

Wash clothing by type, not color. Keep items with buttons and zippers separate from delicates and T-shirts, as that hardware can accelerate your other clothing’s eventual demise.

There you have it — follow these guidelines, and you’ll be celebrating a happy sweater season for years to come.

I want to buy some mats for my 4-year-old to play on and do gymnastics at home. All the “nontoxic” kids’ playmats seem to be made of EVA foam, but I have the impression that almost anything “foam” (other than natural latex foam) might be either bad for the environment or bad for kids (i.e., flame-retardant chemicals). Is EVA foam OK? Any other options you would recommend? I did see some mats made of natural rubber, and of course they were very expensive.

Jaysa Z.Boston, Massachusetts

A. Dearest Jaysa,

In a world where even the most innocent-looking products must be approached with suspicion — baby mattresses soaked in flame retardants, estrogenic sippy cups, off-gassing Barbies — it can seem that being a vigilant parent requires an advanced chemistry degree and access to molecular analysis tools. Can’t I buy one darn toy without worrying about it poisoning my kid? I imagine parents all over the world sighing in an exasperated chorus.

But no need to pick up that chem textbook, Jaysa. I’m happy to go to the mat to help you ferret out the safest products for your young’un. You’re on the right track looking for nontoxic playmats: The typical options out there (like the folding mats ubiquitous in the elementary school gyms of my youth) are made from polyurethane foam, which you’ve correctly identified as likely to contain cancer-causing, hormone-disrupting flame retardants. And they’re often covered with vinyl to boot, making them a double no-no. You are wise to steer clear.

This brings us to EVA (ethylene vinyl acetate) foam, which is generally considered to be a safer alternative to polyurethane foams. You’ve probably seen EVA foam in the form of those colorful puzzle-piece floor mats. But how safe is it, really? I’m afraid the reviews are a bit mixed on this one.

On one hand: Research out of Europe about six years ago discovered that some EVA foam kids’ mats contained a chemical called formamide. It’s rather vile stuff, linked to cancer and reproductive issues. Belgium and France quickly enacted strict limits on formamide in playmats on the market, and the U.K. also published restrictions, albeit more lenient ones. (One more strike against EVA: It is very hard to recycle.)

But on the other hand, other experts argue that although playmats can emit formamide, it’s in such small doses as to pose no real threat to tumbling toddlers. Research in Australia found that children would have to “mouth” a mat for 20 minutes (or eat four square meters of foam!) every day for the rest of their lives to do themselves any real harm. (That’s aside from the digestive complications sure to come from eating any foam, I assume.)

I don’t like to overreact to matters like this, Jaysa. But there does seem to be enough scientific concern about EVA foam to invoke the old “better safe than sorry” clause.

Since you haven’t yet invited EVA mats into your home, I’d look for an alternative. Spendy natural rubber/latex mats are one option, yes. You can also find mats made from cork, organic cotton, and nontoxic polyethylene foam, though you’ll have to judge if they’re tough enough for a 4-year-old’s handstands and somersaults (versus an infant’s gentle explorations). Or how about using several layers of comforters or quilts on the floor? That might provide just the cushion your budding gymnast needs.

Another factor to consider about EVA foam mats: Research shows that off-gassing is most acute when mats are brand-new, with formamide emissions dropping considerably within a month. So you could look to buy such playmats used, or keep new ones outside and away from your kids for a month.

And if all of this discussion over just one of the average kiddo’s many accessories has you exhausted, don’t forget: Wooden blocks, cornhusk dolls, and string-and-button buzzers worked just fine for our great-grandparents, and I daresay they’re due to come back in style.

I recently bought a palm houseplant at Home Depot and was shocked when I got it home to find it had a tag saying it had been treated with a neonicotinoid pesticide. I thought Home Depot had pledged to stop using this pesticide, but it turns out that they are phasing it out … for another two years. I was going to take it back and read the manager the riot act, but it occurs to me that the plant would just be put back outside for sale. As it is a houseplant and I would not be putting it outside, is it safer for me just to keep it? How long will the pesticide infest the plant? Since I don’t have much of a green thumb, if I eventually need to dispose of it, how do I do that safely?

Erin M.Falls Church, Virginia

A. Dearest Erin,

I can’t help but feel a bit sorry for your houseplant. First it gets treated with a nasty pesticide (against its will, no doubt). Then it finally finds a home, only to have to worry its loving new owner might ship it back to the plant orphanage. Poor little guy.

Yes, I know: Plants don’t really have feelings. But you do, Erin, and I don’t blame you for getting fired up about the poison you unwittingly took home. Neonicotinoids, aka neonics — some of the world’s most popular pesticides — have long been suspected of harming bees. Studies linking them to disrupted bee behavior, infection, and death, plus Colony Collapse Disorder, are piling up. And enough people are concerned about it that big-box stores like Home Depot have committed to phasing them out. At least palm-shoppers two years in the future won’t have to worry about this sort of thing.

But that’s no help to you now, with a neonic-soaked houseplant on your hands. Should it stay or should it go? I have good news: Both options are good ones, for different reasons. So if you’ve formed a bond with this frond, you can keep it; if not, well, you don’t need to feel guilty for returning it.

Let’s look at option one: Keep it. Unfortunately, you can’t just give the plant a good rinse: Neonics are systemic pesticides, which means they’re taken up by a plant’s roots and incorporated into every part of it, from the pollen to the stems to the leaves. And the stuff sticks around — for a loooong time. Exactly how long depends on the specific neonic, plant, and soil type, but the poison can linger for up to three or four years, says Susan E. Kegley, principal and CEO of the Pesticide Research Institute.

Even so, because this plant doesn’t flower (and therefore won’t attract pollinators) and you’re keeping it indoors, it doesn’t pose a risk to your local bees. And it’s probably OK for you, too, unless you’re pregnant or have little ones in the house: Research has also linked neonics to damage to the developing human nervous system. This is more a concern if you’re ingesting contaminated food or water than living with indoor greenery, but it’s good to be careful.

Let’s say you did want to put it outside — or you’re extra-vigilant about what can grow in your home. In that case, it’s a great idea to flush some of the pesticide out. While the plant is still in its pot, “flood water” it by giving it hearty drinks that flow out of the bottom. After seven weeks of watering lavender this way, the Pesticide Research Institute reports, neonic levels dropped to about 10 percent of what they were at the start. Just make sure that the flood water doesn’t drip on any other flowering plants.

Oh, and if your thumb ends up being more black than green, don’t try to compost your dearly departed palm, says Kegley. Traces of neonics could stick around quite a while before fully breaking down, so it’s best to landfill it.

And then there’s option two: Return it. Though Home Depot is working on its phaseout (and props to the company for it), you can urge it to work faster. “If you want to make a statement and push the issue to help protect pollinators, take it back and tell them why,” advises Kegley. Yes, polish off that riot act. “Retail outlets are responding to consumer demand. It’s really important that people make their wishes known, because that’s the way we’re going to make change.”

Then, when shopping for your next plant, seek out organic nurseries and seed companies that explicitly forbid neonics (here’s a list to start with). Encouraging good practices with our dollars is just as important as boycotting bad ones, after all. That way, you’ll have a bee-friendly garden, inside and out.

]]>palm-couch-shutterstock-cShould I be using a water filter?http://grist.org/article/should-i-be-using-a-water-filter/
http://grist.org/article/should-i-be-using-a-water-filter/#commentsMon, 26 Sep 2016 10:36:40 +0000http://grist.org/?p=349422]]>

Q.Dear Umbra,

We recently heard a sales pitch for a whole-house water filtration system, and now I’m concerned about the safety of my tap water. That particular system cost thousands of dollars — which we don’t exactly have lying around. Do I even need to filter my water? If so, is there a cheaper, but still effective, way to do it? I don’t want my family (including two small kids) to be exposed to anything dangerous!

Emily N.Lakewood, Colorado

A. Dearest Emily,

If you’ve ever traveled in a developing country, you’re probably familiar with what I call the Moment of Water-Quality Horror: After being very careful not to drink water straight from the tap, you bolt upright in the middle of the night, thinking, Oh no, there was ice in my margarita! or Aaaah, that lettuce was washed in the sink! Then you wait, certain that trip-ruining GI distress will set in at any moment.

Generally, we lucky Americans don’t have to worry about catching Delhi belly from our taps at home, thanks to our regularly tested, regulated municipal water supplies — “one of the safest water supplies in the world,” according to our own Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. However, there’s more to consider than just germs when we’re talking water safety: Any number of other contaminants, from pesticide residues to heavy metals to radioactive chemicals, may also slip into the pipes. And as the crisis in Flint, Michigan, recently reminded us, sometimes all our water safeguards don’t protect us from some seriously troubling additives.

The sad fact is that any number of frightening chemicals (such as benzene, a carcinogenic substance found in gasoline, or perchlorate, a contaminant in rocket fuel), heavy metals (lead, mercury), or naturally occurring nasties (arsenic, radium) might be flowing into your home. The party line over at the U.S. EPA is that it’s likely some of this stuff is sneaking into your water glass — but in such small amounts that it doesn’t pose a risk to healthy people. Beyond that, hundreds of potentially dangerous chemicals aren’t regulated by the EPA — so we don’t even check for them. Children (along with pregnant women, the elderly, and those with compromised immune systems) are particularly vulnerable, so this issue is extra-important for your little family, Emily.

But before you pawn grandma’s jewels to pay for an elaborate filtration system, do your research. Your first order of business: Check your town’s water quality report, called a Consumer Confidence Report. These mandated studies tell you exactly what’s lurking in your water supply, and in what kind of concentrations. If you find anything disturbing, or you want more personalized data for your home, you might also want to test your water independently. (For example, if your pipes were put in before the mid-‘80s, they could be leaching lead.) Call the EPA’s Safe Drinking Water Hotline or check with your local health department for help finding a lab to do the testing.

Let’s say your digging does uncover contaminants of concern in worrying concentrations. In that case, you have several options for filters — many of which are effective without a multi-thousand-dollar price tag. Technology-wise, the biggies are carbon/charcoal filters and reverse osmosis filters. Carbon filters work by absorbing certain pollutants; they’re usually quite affordable, but they don’t catch everything. Reverse osmosis systems, on the other hand, force water through a very fine membrane (and sometimes a carbon filter to boot). They screen out more substances, but they’re pricey, and they waste three to 20(!) times as much water as they produce. So unless your water is laced with something that only reverse osmosis can remove (like, say, hexavalent chromium), a carbon model is probably your best bet. Check this handy list of contaminants from NSF International, a nonprofit lab that develops filter industry standards, to decide.

Carbon filters come in several forms, from the cheap to the high-dollar. On the bargain side of things, we have common carafe-style filters (starting at around $20) and faucet-mounted models ($20-$30). More intensive options include countertop or under-sink systems, which often treat water more quickly, but usually require extra plumbing work and range from around $100 up to a cool $1,000. Whichever fits your budget and filtering needs, make sure the one you buy is NSF-certified to remove the chemicals you’re most concerned about, and change the filter regularly to make sure it’s working in tip-top shape.

Because I’m sure you, like me, prefer that tall glass of water without the side of scary substances, thank you very much.

We have an old storage tank water heater I’m afraid will go kaput any day now. What type of water heater do you think is best, climate-wise, to replace it? I don’t want to go crazy spending money, but it’d be nice to upgrade as greenly as possible.

Dominique F.Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

A. Dearest Dominique,

I applaud you for thinking ahead: All too often, water heaters pick “dead of winter, when you have your in-laws visiting” to go kaput, and then your decision-making is limited to whatever’s in stock at the local home store. Doing your research now will lead you to the best intersection of green and affordable when the time comes.

Before I dive into my favorite options, a caveat or two: The ideal water heater for you will depend on your house, family size, fuel options (i.e., natural gas, propane, electricity), and other variables, so keep that in mind. Also, I’m no contractor — get the advice of a pro before you pull the trigger.

OK, Dominique, here are my picks for the eco-friendliest ways to get that water blazing hot, in descending order:

Solar water heater

Do you like the idea of harnessing the sun’s (free) rays and spinning them, Rumpelstiltskin-like, into golden energy? Me too. And that’s exactly what a solar hot water system does. Your own rooftop solar panel array magics the heat of sunbeams into your next hot shower, no carbon emissions necessary. OK, it’s not exactly magic; here’s how it really works. (Note: This type of system is separate from the solar array you might put on your roof to generate clean electricity.) Such a system saves about 2,400 pounds of carbon per year.

And yes, that performance is expensive — from about $4,000 up to $10,000, including installation. But hear me out, Dominique: You’ll get a 30 percent tax credit if you bite the bullet before the end of 2016. And you’ll be saving a chunk of cash on your energy bills. The time it takes for those savings to make up for the upfront cost varies widely (estimates range from 3 to 5 years all the way to 30 years), so you’ll have to crunch some personalized numbers to find out if this renewable upgrade counts as “crazy spending” for you.

Geothermal heat pump

If you can’t use the sun, then how about the earth? No matter what the weather is, anywhere in the world, dig about 10 feet down and you’ll hit a fairly constant 54-degree temperature zone. Geothermal heat-pump water heaters tap into this natural heat source via a system of buried pipes, then transfer that energy to your water. The pumps use some energy to operate, but it’s not much, and they’re generally quite energy-efficient and save lots of carbon. Geothermal water heaters are most often included in a whole-house heating/cooling system — quite a nifty setup, by the way, so if you’re also in the market for an HVAC makeover, this could be a match made in heaven.

This option is also on the spendy side, but it’ll save you money in operating costs and could pay for itself relatively quickly (one estimate for a whole-house system ranges from 4.7 to 15 years). And if you jump on it, you’ll also qualify for a tax credit.

Regular heat pump

These work like geothermal pumps, but instead of drawing power from the ground, they pull from the air. They’re not as efficient as their geothermal brethren, but they’re a big improvement over the status quo: Heat pumps use 60 percent less power than electric storage tanks. What’s more, they pay for themselves very quickly — within two years, if you get an Energy Star high-efficiency model.

Tankless water heater

One of the biggest drawbacks of the conventional storage water heater is that it’s constantly burning energy to keep hot water ready for your every whim. A tankless (AKA on-demand) heater sidesteps that problem by quickly firing up your water only when you need it, a trick that makes it up to 34 percent more energy-efficient than a storage tank (50 percent if you install more than one). They cost more than that tank, but less than my favorite options above — about $1,000 to $3,000. But they last 20 years or more, compared to more like 10 for that same old, same old.

Maybe someday we’ll figure out how to use the Earth’s molten core to heat both our water and our homes cheaply and efficiently. I, for one, will celebrate that day by building my own personal sauna. But ‘til then, happy water-heater shopping to you.

]]>Cropped shot of a mother and daughter washing their hands together in a sinkDoes a range hood waste a lot of energy?http://grist.org/living/does-a-range-hood-waste-too-much-energy/
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Q.Dear Umbra,

When I’m cooking and using the vent over the stove, I wonder how much energy I’m wasting. Leaving cooking odors out of the equation, is it better to run the vent and remove cool, air-conditioned air along with the hot? Or allow the heat to escape into the house to be dealt with by the air conditioner?

Teresa M.Kingsville, Texas

A. Dearest Teresa,

Once in a great while, I have a hankering for a nice, juicy steak (organic, local, grass-fed, and free-range, mind you). And I cook up a mean one in a cast-iron skillet, if I do say so myself. The secret is searing the meat over blisteringly high heat to lock in the juices — a move that also results in lots of smoke. My neighbors always know when I’m cooking my yearly rib eye by the piercing whine of my smoke alarm. In other words: I know the value of a good range hood.

But there’s a lot more at, er, stake here than annoyed neighbors. Your question pits clean indoor air against the efficiency of your cooling/heating system: Which should we prioritize? Let’s get cookin’.

You’re right, Teresa: Flipping on your range hood (or stovetop vent, if you prefer) will indeed make your AC or heater work harder, depending on the season. If you have the type that shoots your kitchen air outdoors — and I hope you do, as it’s much more effective than a ductless hood that merely recirculates air around your home — that air needs to be replaced with an equal volume from outside. When it’s hot out, the fresh air sneaking in through the cracks of your windows and doors will need cooling, and vice versa in winter. It’s the same thing that happens when you turn on your bathroom fan.

And if you have a tightly buttoned-up, well-insulated home, running a powerful range hood can cause an unfortunate phenomenon called backdraft, in which that makeup air can’t get in through the usual nooks and crannies and instead gets sucked in via your chimney or water-heater flue — bringing soot and contaminants along with it. (Adding or adjusting dampers on these systems can help.)

But even so, I still urge you to use that vent. That’s because a lot more is coming off of your stovetop than heat and the odors from your stir-fry. Gas stoves, with their open-flame combustion, can create dangerously high levels of nitrogen dioxide, carbon monoxide, formaldehyde, and particulate matter. How high? Recent studies have measured pollutant levels that would violate environmental standards if they were found in outdoor air. These icky fumes can exacerbate or cause respiratory and heart problems, just as if you were inhaling them in smoggy city air, and they’re especially problematic for kids and the elderly.

You’re not home free with an electric stove top, either: Cooking itself, on any type of range, emits particulate matter and an irritating substance called acrolein. It’s not the sort of stuff you want hanging around your kitchen — better to whisk it away with a flick of the vent switch. You’ll use a bit more energy, but it’s a justified use in my book. Of course, you don’t want to go nuts; turn off the hood when you’re done cooking, and use an Energy Star–certified model if you can.

And what if you have one of those ductless recirculating fans, you ask? Don’t despair: Such models usually have a charcoal filter that traps at least some of the nasties your pancake recipe has unleashed. If the weather cooperates, it’s also a great idea to open a window while you’re in chef mode. Or you can grill outdoors, where pollutants can disperse and extra cooking heat won’t be an issue for your AC. And there’s always the raw food diet. I do so love a nice bowl of cold peanut soup, don’t you?

My city prohibits us from putting dog poop in with other compostable stuff. I can pick it up with a plastic bag and toss that in the landfill garbage or I can pick it up and drop it into our toilet. With the drought in California, I’m not sure which is the better alternative. We buy “compostable” dog poop bags, but I also try to reuse non-compostable bags as much as possible, as they tend to accumulate anyway, given modern packaging. Any thoughts on the subject of dog poop, plastic bags, and water conservation would be welcome.

Bob M.Berkeley, California

A. Dearest Bob,

Weird. Protein. Weigh. They’re all exceptions to the “I before E except after C” rule we grew up whispering to ourselves during spelling tests. And just like in English-language spelling, environmental best-practice rules sometimes have an exception, too. Often, this exception is drought-plagued California, or anywhere else suffering from a parched season. We’ve discussed quite a few such oddities here at Ask Umbra, including “Use cloth diapers (except in a drought)” and “Party with reusable plates (except in a drought).” Is “Flush your dog’s poop” destined to become the next on this list?

We certainly have to do something with Buster’s little bonbons. You must pick up after him while out on a walk, obviously. And even if he does most of his business in your yard, it’s not a good option to let his droppings slowly decompose, as canine poo is chock-full of potentially infectious bacteria that can get into storm water and pose health risks to people, other pets, wildlife, and local water quality in general (not to mention your shoes).

The standard advice (sanctioned by the EPA, by the way) is to flush the stuff. If you’re collecting from your backyard, I wouldn’t even bother with bagging it up first in a flushable pouch: You can transport it to the bathroom with a reusable scooper or even TP. But water is at a premium for you, thanks to the epic California drought (which is still a thing, by the way, despite a slight improvement this year). Let’s do some math: Every toilet flush swallows up 1.28 to 1.6 gallons per go. If you flush your pooch’s poop daily, that adds up to about 9 to 11 extra gallons of water each week.

Throwing it away, on the other hand, requires no extra water (beyond whatever was required to manufacture the bag you’re using, that is, but that’s wading a bit too far into the minutiae for today). But doggie doo consigned to the landfill will either never break down (eew) or break down into climate-choking methane (double eew), depending on your choice of bag. Some landfills mitigate this by capturing the methane and burning it for energy, but most don’t. (Though I should mention that sewage treatment plants generate some methane emissions, too.)

All that said, I still think you can turn your toilet into a vanishing portal for dog poop — and hang onto your eco-cred to boot. Simply plan doodie duty around your regular flushing practices. After using the loo but before flushing, just pop out to the yard to scoop up Fido’s daily offerings. Then flush it all in one go. Voilà, you’ve just pulled off a twofer! And if you’re following the Mellow Yellow philosophy, you’ll save even more water.

Of course, I’d be remiss not to point out a few other options besides trashing and flushing, Bob. If you’re up for a bit of a project, you can set up a backyard dog poo septic system to render the stuff harmless. Or, in some lucky cities, such as Portland and a few Colorado towns, residents can sign up with a poop composting pickup service (not to be confused with a regular poop pickup service, which will likely just throw it away for you).

You also asked for my thoughts about plastic bags, Bob, so here they are. You don’t need them for poop management if your strategy is flushing. If you’re throwing the doo away, then reusing existing plastic bags is a workable choice; compostable baggies won’t break down properly in a landfill, so no need to shell out extra for ‘em. In general, for baggies that don’t get diverted to dog duty, it’s best to reuse them as much as possible, then recycle them. Oh, and plastic bags dancing in the wind make for clumsy metaphors at best, even in Oscar-winning films.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, my Google search history now contains the phrase “average human feces per day” as a result of my research for this column. I need to clear that before the targeted ads start rolling in.

]]>http://grist.org/living/what-should-you-do-with-your-dogs-poo/feed/1dog-legs-shutterstock-cShould you avoid walking if the air is polluted?http://grist.org/living/should-you-avoid-walking-if-the-air-is-polluted/
http://grist.org/living/should-you-avoid-walking-if-the-air-is-polluted/#commentsMon, 12 Sep 2016 09:54:53 +0000http://grist.org/?p=347995]]>

Q.Dear Umbra,

My walk to work is 25 to 30 minutes through a pollution-laden, heavy-traffic downtown area. I can smell exhaust fumes the whole way, and see exhaust being expelled from the many trucks and buses. When you live in a place that doesn’t require auto emissions testing, at what point does the toxicity of the air outweigh the health benefits of walking?

Jennie F.Anchorage, Alaska

A. Dearest Jennie,

At first glance, what we have here is a classic catch-22: People can’t walk (or bike) to work because of all the lung-clogging air pollution spewing from car tailpipes. But what do we need to do to slash that air pollution? Walk (or bike) to work! Short of convincing everyone in Anchorage to abandon their cars in one fell swoop, zombie apocalypse–style, it appears we’re stuck.

Or are we?

The health risks of air pollution — from car exhaust, yes, but also industrial smokestacks, power plants, woodstoves, and forest fires — are no joke. But even so, science says most of us are still better off hoofing it in all but the most horrifically polluted places. This means you shouldn’t have to abandon your morning stroll, Jennie — and you can take a few extra steps to protect yourself. Allow me to clear the haze a bit.

First, you’re right to be concerned about the air you’re inviting into your lungs. According to the World Health Organization, polluted skies contributed to some 3.7 million premature deaths around the globe in 2012. Several noxious ingredients contribute to dirty air, but the biggies are ground-level ozone and particulate matter, both of which come, directly or indirectly, from gasoline and diesel vehicles. Ozone — a combination of nitrogen oxides, volatile organic compounds (like the ones emitted by paint and mattresses), and carbon monoxide — attacks lung tissue. Particulate matter is very tiny particles that can get stuck in the lungs or even pass into the bloodstream. Between them, these pollutants are linked to, in ascending order of scariness: respiratory irritation, asthma attacks, heart attacks, strokes, and death. Overcome by a sudden urge to start wearing your Bane Halloween costume early? Me too.

But all is not lost. Researchers in Denmark and the U.K. recently looked into your very question. Both studies found that the health benefits of outdoor activity (including walking, biking, and gardening) far outweigh the risks of breathing polluted air — not to mention the environmental benefits of keeping one more car off the road. Now for the asterisks: This applies as long as you’re generally healthy. Vulnerable populations, such as kids, the elderly, and those with existing heart or lung problems, should be more careful. Also, the researchers assume you’re not commuting to work in, say, Delhi, home of the world’s dirtiest air. Even in very polluted areas, though, you’d have to walk more than 10 hours a day for the health risks from breathing the air to trump your pedestrian preferences.

Long exhale, all together now. That said, it still makes sense to reduce your exposure to smoggy air as much as possible while you’re en route. My No. 1 piece of advice: Can you adjust your route to avoid the streets with the heaviest traffic, Jennie? The worst pollution gathers within 50 feet of a road, so the more bike/walking paths and quiet side streets you can incorporate, the better (even if it lengthens your commute a bit). Steer especially clear of roads lined with tall buildings, which trap pollutants.

Beyond that, shifting your commute to avoid rush hour (mo’ idling cars, mo’ problems) would give you access to cleaner air, with early morning offering up the freshest inhalations. Perhaps your boss would be open to you coming in and leaving earlier? It’s also a good idea to check air quality like you check the weather; days with an “unhealthy” or worse rating might be good days to take the bus. And finally, walk more slowly. No, really: The more intense your activity, the more air you’ll gasp in, thus exposing you to more pollutants. At the very least, that’s an excellent excuse the next time you’re late for the Monday meeting.

One step you probably don’t need to take in American cities: wearing a mask, as many do in uber-polluted places like Beijing (where the air quality is more than four times filthier than in one of our worst cities, Los Angeles). Unless, of course, you’re hoping to draw some attention, start a movement, and inspire others to ditch their cars and walk with you. That’d be one small step for woman, one giant leap for humankind indeed.

]]>http://grist.org/living/should-you-avoid-walking-if-the-air-is-polluted/feed/4woman highway roadIf I use clean power, can I crank up the AC without guilt?http://grist.org/living/if-i-use-clean-power-can-i-crank-the-ac-without-guilt/
http://grist.org/living/if-i-use-clean-power-can-i-crank-the-ac-without-guilt/#commentsThu, 08 Sep 2016 08:58:42 +0000http://grist.org/?p=347786]]>

Q.Dear Umbra,

We recently enrolled in a green-rate program through our utility. For an approximate 20 percent premium, we receive 100 percent renewable electricity. Given that, is it still important to conserve electricity, or can I now crank up the AC without treehugger guilt? Indeed, wouldn’t it make sense, from an environmental perspective, to decarbonize (and thus use more electricity) by converting our gas heat, water heater, dryer, and stove top to electric? Maybe even buy an electric vehicle?

Ed A.Rancho Cucamonga, California

A. Dearest Ed,

Do you ever read fairy tales? If so, you’ve no doubt run into the old “magic bag” plot, in which someone finds an enchanted receptacle that’s always full — of gold coins, or food, or what have you. The idea of an inexhaustible supply of doubloons or, hey, even potatoes is appealing indeed. But is your new green-rate program truly the modern version of a magic bag — a never-ending stream of kilowatt-hours of electricity generated without consequence?

I’m afraid not, Ed. Magic-bag electricity still belongs in the fairy-tale realm, along with invisibility capes and giant beanstalks to the heavens. To explain why, I turned to a few wise old wizards, er, renewable energy experts. But first, a few key facts.

Your green rate likely works something like this: Your power company buys renewable electricity from a specific supplier, such as a solar or wind farm. This clean power gets funneled into the grid, our nation’s vast and somewhat confusing system of power plants, transmission lines, and other infrastructure. (Need a little grid enlightenment? Head here for an overview.) Then you pay the utility company a premium to help cover the higher cost of that clean power source. “A green pricing program allows customers to support a greater level of a utility’s investment in renewable energy technology,” said James Hewett, program manager for the American Council on Renewable Energy. “That does increase the overall [renewable energy] put on the grid.” (Note: This is not quite the same thing as a renewable energy certificate, or REC.)

OK, so why is the green rate not a license to leave the lights on 24/7, or keep your home at meat-freezer levels all summer long? One reason: It’ll cost you — and you’re already paying a premium for your juice.

Even if money is no object, here’s another reason: Your power isn’t necessarily coming straight from the solar farm. You see, the more green power — as opposed to “brown power” generated from dirty, carbon-belching fossil fuels — available on the grid, the better. But I mean better for everybody, not just you. There’s no way to guarantee that the particular electrons zinging into your house courtesy of your utility company and pumping your AC came from a renewable source. The more renewables in the grid’s overall mix, the better the chances they are, but we can’t be sure.

“Green-rate power is almost certainly a fraction of the total system power for a utility,” said Ralph Cavanagh, the Natural Resources Defense Council’s energy program codirector. “Even with green power, some of the electricity used by appliances may still come from fossil fuel–powered plants, depending on where [you] live and what time [you] use the appliance.”

That timing thing is key, Ed. If your desire to crank up the AC coincides with everyone else doing the same thing, that’s quite a collective strain on the grid. And when electricity demand peaks, utilities often have to fire up additional “peaker plants” to meet that need — a situation we should avoid, because peakers tend to be dirtier power sources. (Here’s lots more about demand, supply, and the grid’s power mix.) “It has a great impact, especially aggregated among residential customers, to reduce the amount of load on the grid,” said Ben Airth, senior manager with the Center for Sustainable Energy.

There is a way to be sure your power is 100 percent renewable: Install your own solar panel array (or wind turbines, or other home power system) with enough capacity to meet your electricity needs. Even this, though, is no excuse to waste electricity: The less power you use, the smaller and cheaper your system can be — and the more excess juice you can sell back to your utility, padding your bottom line (at least in California and the many other states that allow net metering). If there’s a magic bag in this story, it’s a home renewable system hooked into the grid, forever full of bright sun or wind that can be converted into cold cash.

As for replacing your gas-powered appliances and/or car with electric models? That could make good sense, because the electric grid is just going to keep getting cleaner, making electricity a better source of juice than natural gas or gasoline (but be aware that electricity is a more expensive fuel source than natural gas). “High-efficiency electric appliances are increasingly a great choice as more renewables come online and coal-fired plants get decommissioned,” said Cavanagh. Choosing the most efficient appliance models and running them during off-peak hours will help reduce their overall impact even more. Cavanagh adds, “Buying an electric car is a great choice right now — prices are coming down, and there are more charging stations available.” And California’s cleaner energy mix makes EVs a particularly good idea in your neck of the woods.

So unfortunately, neither I nor your green-rate program can banish your treehugger guilt. Conservation remains the order of the day, at least until we can find a genie to grant us three wishes. Though if you’ve read any folktales at all, you know that particular story line always creates more problems than it solves.

In a quest to quit using nasty cleaning chemicals in my house, I’ve gone largely to vinegar and baking soda. I know vinegar is easy to produce, and should have little environmental damage, but what about baking soda? I know they mine it from the huge dry lakebeds here in California: I’ve visited one, and that visit made it seem like a resource that would be renewable in only very limited amounts. Can baking soda be easily synthesized from other sources, or is it once-and-done? Could we run out?

Dechenne C.Phelan, California

A. Dearest Dechenne,

We here at Grist talk a lot about baking soda: how to clean our homes and laundry and hair and teeth and armpits with it, how to kill mold with it, and, naturally, how to cook up tasty treats with it. But strangely enough, we rarely ever discuss what this white wonder actually is, and from whence it comes, and whether or not we’re around the corner from a dire shortage. I’m glad you’ve brought this up, and even gladder to meet the kind of person who takes recreational trips to baking-soda mining operations. What are you up to this weekend? We should hang out.

But first, let’s dig into your question. You’re absolutely right that we haul baking soda right out of the ground — well, technically, we mine the minerals nahcolite and trona, both of which can be refined into soda ash (sodium carbonate, for my chemistry-minded friends). And soda ash begets baking soda (sodium bicarbonate), as well as a slew of other products, from glass to cloth to paper. Lucky for us, the world’s largest deposit of trona just happens to be right here in the U.S.: Wyoming’s Green River Basin, to be specific, which supplies 90 percent of the nation’s soda ash. California has a few lodes too, and we also have a rich bed of nahcolite in Colorado. Go USA!

We owe these riches to the magic of geologic time. Southwestern Wyoming, for example, was a huge freshwater lake 50 to 60 million years ago. The local climate ping-ponged from wet to dry; during wet periods, mineral-y mud created by the erosion of igneous rocks was swept in the lakebed, and then dried out to form trona deposits. At this point, Dechenne, you might be thinking that sounds kinda like fossil fuels such as oil and gas, nonrenewable resources we greenies are keen to avoid. Are we also washing, scrubbing, and cooking our way through the nation’s limited supply of baking soda as we speak?

Good news: We have a lot of trona lying around. According to the U.S. Geological Survey, Wyoming alone contains 56 billion tons of pure layered trona, plus 47 billion more tons mixed with other minerals. We’re only tapping trona at the rate of 15 million tons per year; the Wyoming Mining Association estimates that we have enough on hand to last more than 2,000 years.

That’s comforting, because while we can produce baking soda synthetically, we shouldn’t. A procedure known as the Solvay process turns limestone, salt, and ammonia into baking soda, but that comes with a set of environmental hazards: toxic wastewater, higher energy use, and a bigger carbon footprint. Better to go straight to the source.

But what about the mining itself? Doesn’t that have an impact, you might wonder? Well, it’s an extractive industry so … yes, it does. Mining companies use two approaches: In one, room-and-pillar mining (or dry mining), they build vast underground caverns supported by trona pillars, then scrape the mineral out of the earth and carry it to the surface with conveyor belts. In the other, solution mining (wet mining), the miners inject hot water deep into the deposits. The trona or nahcolite dissolves, gets pumped to the surface, and evaporates, leaving behind the mineral crystals.

Still, any product will have some kind of production impact. And given that baking soda is a highly effective, nontoxic wonder powder that can replace a laboratory’s worth of questionable-to-outright-hazardous chemicals in our lives, I still give it the Umbra Seal of Approval. Let’s not go wasting the stuff, but nor should we sweat this one too much. Though if you do, I have a great recipe for homemade baking-soda deodorant around here somewhere.

We have fluorescent lights in our garage that we turn on to put our boots on for our morning walk. I was always taught to turn lights off when I leave a room, but my husband says that it takes more energy to turn on the lights again when we get back than leaving them on for an hour while we’re gone. Is there some formula for how long the lights can be on before it exceeds the energy consumption of turning them off and then on again?

Roberta B.Rangely, Colorado

A.Dearest Roberta,

Our parents would have gotten along swimmingly. “Turn off the lights when you leave the room!” was one of my mom and dad’s favorite admonitions, right up there with “Close the door — you weren’t born in a barn” and “Close the fridge — you weren’t born in an industrial kitchen.” (I was born in an off-the-grid, passive-solar doula’s cabin, which primes one for energy efficiency right from the get-go.)

It turns out our parents, and not your husband, have the right idea about turning off lightbulbs. But don’t go holding that against your in-laws just yet: Your husband’s belief that flipping the lights off and on wastes energy is a common myth. What’s more, there’s even a grain of truth behind it when we’re talking about fluorescent bulbs. Let’s shine a little light on the details, shall we?

Compact fluorescents, those power-sipping bulbs that finally pushed out inefficient incandescent bulbs back in 2012, actually do require a small surge of electricity to light up. But that surge lasts only 1/120th of a second, using the same amount of energy as just a few seconds of illumination — in other words, the startup energy is so tiny as to not really matter. This is true not just of newer, twisty CFLs but also of old-school fluorescent tubes, so the verdict is the same no matter which kind you have in your garage, Roberta.

But here’s something else to consider: Wantonly toggling fluorescent bulbs on and off (on/off cycling, if you want to get technical) shortens their lifespan. Why? Every time you flip the switch, the mercury within the bulb degrades its electrodes a bit. Just like anything else, bulbs a) have an environmental impact from production and b) cost money, so it’s wise to keep them in operation as long as possible. Technically, leaving them ablaze all the time would give you the most hours of light per bulb, but you’d also have to replace them much more frequently.

So when to leave ‘em lit and when to power down? No formulas necessary. The Department of Energy recommends turning off the lights if you’ll be gone for at least 15 minutes, and experts at the Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory say go dark if you’ll be out of the room for 5 minutes. Either way, it’s safe to say your hour-long morning constitutional warrants turning off the garage lights. Our parents would be so proud.

Of course, Roberta, you would do even better by replacing your fluorescents with the one bulb to rule them all: LEDs. Not only do these babies use the least power of the lighting options by far, but they also have no problem with on/off cycling — so you can flick the switch off whenever you leave the room without worrying about break-even points. They cost a bit more than CFLs up front, but they’re so long-lasting (we’re talking 25 times longer than the old incandescent bulbs), they’ll make up for that over years of peaceful morning strolls. Plus, you’ll never have to argue with your hubby about lightbulbs again, and surely that’s worth something too.